The Mysterious Case of Neelix's Lungs
by StarSword-C
Summary: Star Trek: Voyager AU series, with worffan101. What if the Caretaker caught Gul Evek, too? What if Janeway and Chakotay were killed in the crossing, but Veronica Stadi survived? What if Harry Kim got character development, and Neelix had two brain cells to rub together? These and other questions answered, in a series of episode rewrites and original stories.
1. Caretaker

**The Mysterious Case of Neelix's Lungs: A _Star Trek: Voyager_ AU Series**

**Episode 1x1: "Caretaker" by worffan101**

* * *

><p><strong>Cast list:<strong>

Acting Gil Daran Taril, helmsman, CDS _Vetar_: Alan Tudyk.

Gul Aman Evek, CO, CDS _Vetar_: Richard Poe.

Gil Kalar, operations officer, CDS _Vetar_: Sean Maher.

Ensign Tom Paris, helmsman/tactical officer, USS _Voyager_: Robert Duncan McNeill.

Lieutenant Harry Kim, operations chief, USS _Voyager_: Garret Wang.

Lieutenant Emergency Medical Hologram, deputy CMO, USS _Voyager_: Robert Picardo.

Lieutenant Commander T'Pai, CMO, USS _Voyager_: Aly Michalka.

Captain Veronica Stadi, CO, USS _Voyager_: Alicia Coppola.

Acting Captain Tuvok/Commander Tuvok, XO, USS _Voyager_: Tim Russ.

Crewman Celes Tal, sensor chief, USS _Voyager_: Zoe McLellan.

Neelix: Ethan Phillips.

Gil Ocett: Gina Torres.

Ensign Samantha Wildman: Nancy Hower.

Lieutenant Lyndsay Ballard, ChENG, USS _Voyager_: Kim Rhodes.

Lieutenant JG B'Elanna Torres, deputy ChENG, USS _Voyager_: Roxanne Dawson

Lieutenant Ayala, security chief, USS _Voyager_: Tarik Ergin.

Glinn Emil Tarak, security chief, CDS _Vetar_: Nathan Fillion.

Kes: Jennifer Lien.

Provisional Glinn Alina i'Kevratas t'Aimne, sensor officer, CDS _Vetar_: Morena Baccarin.

* * *

><p><em>The Badlands, FederationCardassian Demilitarized Zone, Alpha Quadrant  
>Federation Stardate 48281.88 (6 February 2371 Earth Standard)<br>Cardassian Unified Date 4701.6.22/192_

"Maquis ship has closed the channel, my Gul," reported Daran Taril from the Cardassian warship _Vetar_'s helm station. "They're trying to fly through the particle storms; I can outmaneuver them, I'm sure of it!"

"Excellent," said Gul Aman Evek calmly, his voice taught with rage. "Tactical, strike to disable. Fire at will."

Hybrid phaser/disruptor pulses lanced out, striking the Maquis raider in its engines; the small vessel flickered and went dead in space.

"Tractor beams, now!"

The _Vetar_ snagged its catch, and Gul Evek allowed himself one moment of triumph. The terrorist scum would be brought to trial; no more escaping fate for them.

Then the sirens blared anew.

"My Gul!" reported young Gil Kalar from the sensor station. "Detecting some sort of tetryon-based displacement wave, coming for us at .98_c_!"

"Helm, get us out of here!"

"I can't outpace that thing at impulse, my Gul!" screamed Daran Taril as he frantically pulled the cruiser around and rocketed out of the Badlands at full impulse. The Trill looked again at his instruments and cursed in his native tongue. "It will catch us in 10… 9…"

"All hands, brace for impact!" barked Gul Aman Evek. "Computer, activate safety harness for all bridge crew!"

Then the world went white.

* * *

><p><em>One week later<em>.

Red Alert.

That was the first thing on Ensign Kim's mind as he awoke on the deck.

Wait. The deck. Red alert sirens. Computer calmly stating damage reports.

Smoke. Fire.

"Harry? Harry, c'mon, man, get up! I need your help!"

"T...Tom?" managed Harry, turning his head sideways with some pain; the charming pilot's head swam into view without too much blurriness.

"Yeah. C'mon, Harry, the Captain's dead, Cavit's dead, and Stadi's hurt, bad. I can't get her to Sickbay on my own, and transporters are down."

"Right… right… what the hell hit us?"

"You were on sensors, man," said Paris as he helped Harry to his feet. "Something about a tetryon wave?"

"Yeah. That was it. Some sort of anomaly...oh, no."

"Don't look," said Paris, turning Harry's head away from the Commander's broken body. "Stadi's over here, she hit her head and there's some shrapnel embedded in her abdomen."

"The Captain?"

"Over there. Broke her neck, looks like she died instantly."

The Betazoid moaned softly as the men approached, but mercifully she was unconscious; Harry, being bruised but mostly unhurt, took her legs while Tom, sporting what might've been a sprained wrist on top of massive bruises and a wicked gash on his forehead, took her head. It took a little finagling, but the men finally got their charge into the turbolift; Harry entered the commands manually, since internal coms and verbal computer control seemed to be down, while Paris tried to stop Stadi's bleeding.

"She good to move?"

"As good as she'll ever be." Damn, Harry liked that voice.

Focus. Got to get Stadi to Sickbay.

"One, two, three!"

The two men managed to haul their charge to Sickbay, where a Vulcan woman and a balding Human man were working on repairing equipment. Another man in a medical uniform lay in the corner, unmoving.

"T'Pai? Stadi hit her head and took some metal in the gut, we need some help..."

"Put her over here," said the Human man. "Doctor, I will handle the patient."

"That is logical," said T'Pai without looking up from the biobed she was trying to initialize. "Once you have stabilized the patient, examine the others."

"Yes, sir," said the man; his body flickered momentarily with the lights, and Harry realized what he was.

"The EMH? That system's still working?"

"Of course," said Tom. "EMH is designed to function even when the rest of the ship is so much space trash. Its systems are absurdly durable and redundant."

"Wait," said Harry. "I just remembered something. Who's ranking officer now?"

"Until we find someone more senior? The LT there."

"Oh, no...we really are screwed, aren't we?"

"You kidding?" laughed Paris, and damn but that was an infectious laugh. "This is where it gets good!"

* * *

><p>Lieutenant Stadi awoke slowly. Groggily.<p>

As always, she probed gently with her senses. Fear. Fear everywhere. Pain. A rock of control. That mind she knew. That was T'Pai; they'd been roommates at the Academy. T'Pai was anxious and terrified beneath that calm exterior, though…

Stadi placed the surface under her. Biobed. Sickbay.

"You are awake," said T'Pai, with just the merest possible hint of the terror beneath leaking through her alto tone. "Congratulations, Lieutenant. It appears that you are the ranking officer."

"Me?" managed Stadi, sitting up somewhat stiffly. "What about the Captain? The Commander? The doctor? The Chief?"

"Dead. I am effective chief medical officer; the emergency medical hologram will supplement my knowledge if necessary. Ensign Kim and the parolee, Paris, brought you here from the Bridge."

"By the Dagger of the Second Deity… all of the senior officers?"

"As well as most of the enlisted crew and junior officers. We now have less than two-thirds of our original crew complement."

"By the Dagger… I'm ranking officer."

"Yes, Lieutenant. Or, I should say, yes, Captain."

"Captain. Right. OK. I'm Captain now…" Stadi thought for a moment. "Right. Paris is an arrogant playboy who I don't trust, but he's got a record as the best pilot since Nick Locarno. He's helm officer as an Ensign until further notice. Kim can take Ops, make him a Lieutenant. We can handle security chief and sensors later; Ops can handle sensors in the meantime. Ballard's ChENG if she isn't already."

"Understood, Captain," said T'Pai, running a tricorder over Stadi briskly. "You are cleared to resume light duty, but do not put too much strain on your abdomen; it will require time to heal."

"Time. Got it." Stadi stood, straightened her uniform, and picked her way out the door.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Kim!" shouted Stadi as she entered the Bridge. The residential areas of the ship were still a mess, but she'd been out for several hours; the Bridge was back in working, if chipped and scuffed, order.<p>

The dead officers had, she had heard, been moved to the Captain's ready room. Stadi resolved not to go there anytime soon.

"Sir?" asked the young Human, working at Ops with a cast-armed man in Science colors.

"Congratulations, Lieutenant, you're promoted. Replicate yourself some pips later. Have you got any idea where we are?"

"Astrometrics reports that we're in the Delta Quadrant, Sir," said Kim. "70,000 light years from home. At standard cruising velocity...that's seventy years to get back to the Federation."

"Seventy… Deities. The warp core?"

"We had a microfracture in the containment unit," said Paris from the helm station, which he was trying to re-initialize. "Carey had to lock down the core. We don't have warp drive until further notice."

"Understood. Third question, and this one's important. What in the name of the Second Deity is that _thing_, and is it hostile?"

"That thing" was a massive, multi-pronged space station, hanging in space a few dozen kilometers before _Voyager_'s bow. Just looking at it made Stadi shiver. There was something over on that thing… a _mind_…

"A space station, we think. Sir." This from the man in Science colors; he wasn't even a full ensign. Deities. She'd have to rework the command structure. "Looks like a couple of ships nearby; old Bajoran-designed raider from one of the semi-independent colonies by the Klingon border, and a Cardassian _Galor_-class. The raider's running Maquis codes, coming back as the _Val Jean_, the Cardie's coming back as the _Vetar_, commanded by Gul Aman Evek. No life signs on either ship, but plenty on the station."

"All right. Let's head in, and—"

And then Stadi was in a field.

_What the…_

* * *

><p>"What in the name of the First Empire is this? Tell me where I am, or I WILL kill you!"<p>

Stadi blinked. She was in a field. There were a number of Cardassian soldiers in the field, as well. One, with a Gul's rank insignia, was pointing a disturbingly menacing disruptor pistol at an elderly Human man with a banjo.

"I really don't know what…"

"_Vhorrath_! You know exactly what I mean! A poor imitation of Lakarian City, a bunch of shoddy holograms, and then subjecting my men to forced experiments? I am a Gul of the Cardassian Fourth Order! You WILL return the men you took to me this instant, or I will kill you!"

"I'm afraid you won't do that," said the man. The land _shifted_, and Stadi was in a cold, dark room, the Cardassians and crewmen who had been brought with her standing around in shock. The man…

He was gone. In his place was a shimmering, pulsating _thing_—the source of the alien mind Stadi had sensed, she realized.

"I asked for my men," snarled the Cardassian. "But now that we're here… Glinn! Get a search party together, see if the terrorists were taken as well! I'll be damned if some arrogant alien is going to keep them from justice."

"I do apologize," said the creature, its own universal translators instantly interpreting its hums. "But I require the subjects I have procured to save myself and the Ocampa. On the off-chance that they survive the tests, they will be returned to you once I have used them to reproduce or heal myself, to ensure the continued safety of the Ocampa…"

"You disgusting…" started the Gul.

"Um, sir?" said Stadi. "Veronica Stadi, Acting Captain of the Federation Starship _Voyager_. Not that I don't agree that this thing is behaving highly unethically, because it is making me sick with what it's saying, but maybe we should find our men and get out of here?"

"Good point," said the Gul. "I am Gul Evek, Cardassian Fourth Order. I don't know whether you can withstand disruptor blasts, alien, but if you do not show my men how to operate this array to retrieve the men you took from me, I will shoot you."

"Wildman to Captain Stadi! I think I'm the only one left on the ship, but I have transporter and weapons control! Should I beam you out or fire on the space station?"

Gul Evek smiled, his gun still pointing at the alien.

"You have my word of honor that if my men are returned and I am shown how to operate this array, we will leave you in peace. You also have my word as a Gul in service of Cardassia that the Cardassian Union will burn every last atom of everything that you care about and make you watch if you do not comply. We aren't friendly pacifists like the Federation. So. What will it be?"

* * *

><p>"All right," said Captain (!) Veronica Stadi as she took her seat in the Captain's chair. "Evek, Tuvok, are your ships intact?"<p>

"We're good to go," said Evek's Trill helmsman over the coms link. "The Gul's helping fix the impulse engines; one of the starboard thrusters is still damaged, but it should be up in minutes."

"Tuvok?"

"Our structural integrity is low, but we are capable of impulse and warp drive."

"Good. We seem to have survived mostly intact—SIF took a hit but Ballard's team is working on it now that the warp core's working again—and our weapons and shields are back up and working normally, so we'll take point for this mission. Agreed?"

"Agreed," said Gul Evek, striding into view on the viewscreen. "I will command. Tuvok, will the terrorists obey you?"

"Yes," said the Vulcan. "One of their own has been captured; they will fight to retrieve her."

"Remember, Evek, I promised them Federation justice," said the Betazoid, checking her two extra pips surreptitiously. "I don't want them going to the Union."

"As long as they stand trial for their crimes," said Evek through clenched teeth. "Fifteen children died in their last bombing. Collateral damage my _hunaf_..."

"Trust me, Gul, Command will be fair in dispensing justice. I swear this on my honor as a Starfleet officer. Paris, bring us about, head for the fifth planet. Ops, do you have any information about it?"

"Class M, barely, sir. Looks like there's not much water; two main supercontinents separated by a small ocean; looks like less than a third the water of Earth, and most of that's brine. We're looking at massive desert environments across most of the landmasses. There's some sort of habitation about two miles underground in the southern continent, as well as some energy readings consistent with parked starships on the surface."

"Then that's where we go. Evek, how many of your men were taken?"

"Two. Glinn Tarak and Gil Kalar."

"Right. My ops chief got taken so I have Celes on sensors and Wildman on Ops...Tuvok, who got taken from the Maquis?"

"B'Elanna Torres. An engineer."

"Understood. Paris, is the core still stable?"

"Looking good, Sir."

"All right, course laid in, engage at warp factor four on my mark. Three...two...one...mark!"

_Voyager_ jolted forwards, the inertial dampeners taxed heavily. They'd need to be brought back to capacity, and fast.

"_Vetar_ to _Voyager_, we're developing a fluctuation in the antimatter containment field. Dropping out of warp."

"Understood. Paris, drop us to impulse. Tuvok, do the same."

The three starships re-entered normal space near a fairly average asteroid belt.

"Detecting a starship, unknown manufacture and configuration," reported Celes.

"Helm, hail them. Let's see if they're with those creepy fake farmers or not."

"Channel open, sir. Audio only."

"Get me video, and patch Tuvok and Evek in. Hello, unidentified starship; this is Captain Veronica Stadi of the Federation starship Voyager. We are on a rescue mission to the nearby planet, and did not come here to fight."

"Rescue?" said a strange voice over the coms link, and suddenly there was a very unflattering video picture of what Stadi was absolutely sure was a humanoid hedgehog. "Oh, thank goodness! If it's not too much bother, I could really use your help...the Kazon-Ogla took my Kes, they're holding her on the planet's surface…"

"That's where we're going," broke in Gul Evek. "How dangerous are these Kazon-Ogla?"

"Well, they're nasty, aggressive brutes… they're probably—oh, goodness, Kes, they must be doing something awful to her, they see women as inferior…"

"Tactical analysis, soldier!" barked Evek. "In its current state, the _Vetar_ can pound a one-click-diameter asteroid into rubble in ten seconds. How much of a challenge will these Kazon-Ogla be?"

"I… I don't know, there are a lot of Kazon, but individually their ships are weak, only a threat to traders like myself…"

"Understood. What is your name?"

"My name? Neelix. Trader and guide in this sector."

"All right, Neelix. Prepare to be beamed aboard, we'll bring your ship in tow. Taril, get me Security and tell them to suit up for combat. I don't like the sound of these Kazon; we may need to engage in extrajudicial punishment. Task force, in hammerhead formation; Stadi, take point, Tuvok on the right flank."

"Engaging full impulse," said Paris. "In formation."

"Good," said Stadi. "What do we have for Security?"

"No more than Evek probably has," said Wildman. "Which isn't very much. Our original crew complement was 141; we're now at 87, and maybe 10 of those people have advanced combat training. Evek's ship's a modified _Galor_-class, standard crew complement of 300 plus flight crew and troops, but they took heavier casualties and a lot of them are still in Sickbay; he said he was on a skeleton crew already, so they've got maybe 10 trained security personnel and about 70 able crewmen out of around a hundred alive."

"Where did you learn so much about Cardie warships? And thanks."

Wildman blushed. "I'm a bit of a nerd, sir. I, uh, collect ships in bottles. Basically, you take a bottle and use these tweezers and glue to build a starship model inside of it…"

"Nothing to be ashamed of," said Stadi. "I served a tour on the _Enterprise_ once. At one point we got stuck in an ancient alien trap and the two main rumors going around the ship for the next month were that Captain Picard loved ships in bottles and Commander LaForge had made a hot hologram to help him save the ship."

"Man after my own heart," snickered Paris.

The coms crackled to life again before Stadi could respond.

"_Voyager_, this is Gul Evek. We are within transporter range. Do you want to try diplomacy or do we go in Cardassian style?"

"Um, as a Starfleet officer, I've kind of got an obligation to try diplomacy. But all the same, I think that all of the security forces we can muster should beam down."

"Well," said Evek, "you're certainly a moderately capable officer. This may not be a complete disaster, after all. Armory, get five of our best into the heaviest gear we have available. Tell them to be ready for combat."

"Captain?" asked Samantha Wildman. "Are you beaming down?"

"Yes. Get me Rollins and ch'Tholas and ask Captain Tuvok to beam down as well."

* * *

><p>"You've fallen right into our trap!" gloated Maje Jal Jabin. "Ha, ha, ha! Now, give me your water and technology and I may keep you as slaves!" He leered at Stadi. "Especially that one. If your woman is good enough to bring with you everywhere, she must really give good—"<p>

Evek calmly shot him in the chest. The Maje crumpled.

"Shithole," muttered the Gul. "All right! This entire vicinity is now the property of the Cardassian Union! Surrender now and I may allow Captain Stadi here to subject you to Federation justice. And believe me, you want Federation justice!"

The Kazon looked at each other, then at Evek, then at Stadi. Then they burst out laughing.

"Ha, ha, ha!" snickered a particularly large and ugly man. "You have a _female_ in command of a ship? You are fools! Ha, ha, ha! Let's kill them!"

"Heavy stun!" barked Gul Evek. The Cardassians opened fire, as did Stadi, Tuvok, and their escorts.

The Kazon that didn't fall immediately charged with clubs.

"Morons," muttered Gul Evek as he calmly took down Kazon with a shock wand. One unfortunate man got the wand to the gut, and promptly collapsed, spewing the contents of his digestive system out both ends. "I'm going to have WORDS with Jagul Madred when I get back; Picard was a good man and a worthy opponent, these fools are unfit to lick the boots of even Cardassia's meanest subjects…"

Two Kazon grabbed Stadi and tried to wrestle her away. She kicked one in the groin with every bit of force that she could muster.

Unbeknownst to anyone present, the leverage of the kick combined with Stadi's desperate strength caused the Kazon's testes to be forced through the muscular wall of his abdominal cavity, eventually coming to rest somewhere near his kidneys.

The Kazon's eyes crossed, and he passed out instantly.

The other Kazon tried to clap a foul-smelling hand over Stadi's mouth; the Betazoid lanced out with her mind instinctively.

Blood. Ugly laughter. Screams. More laughter. A red-haired woman of a species Stadi didn't know, screaming in agony and fear. More laughter. Blood. Screams. Laughter.

Motor cortex.

Stadi _shoved_.

The Kazon froze in place and collapsed in a limp heap. Stadi turned sideways and threw up.

"Stadi?" asked Evek, one of his men shocking the last Kazon into submission. "Are you all—"

Captain Veronica Stadi looked up, her black eyes glittering. "I've changed my mind, Evek. They get Cardassian justice. Especially this one."

"I see," said Gul Evek. "Glinn, round them up and transport them to the Brig. We'll convince them of their crimes later. Stadi, do you need to return to your ship?"

"No," said Stadi. "They have women here, prisoners. They've been… using them. We're going to save them."

"I see," said Gul Evek. "Glinn, perhaps you should prepare Interrogation Room One. The rest of you, with me."

"Captain Stadi," said Tuvok. "I believe that it would be wise for you to return to Voyager. First mental duels are always trying, and if I am correct in my assumption about what you saw, it would be logical to conclude that your judgement may be compromised. Gul Evek, as a Starfleet officer with de facto Captain rank, I must insist on Federation legal procedures for these Kazon."

Gul Evek looked over the Vulcan, standing impassively, and the Betazoid, wiping traces of vomit off of her mouth and glaring at a fallen Kazon.

"As you wish. For the purposes of maintaining our alliance, of course."

"Of course," said Captain Tuvok.

"I'm staying," said Stadi, her voice hollow. "Then I'm heading back to my ship and taking a three-hour hydrobath to clean out my brain."

"A wise decision," said Tuvok. "If you wish, I know several meditation exercises that can help in situations like this."

"Sir!" said one of Evek's men, standing by the open door of a Kazon shack. "There's some women in here, various species. They look pretty badly beaten, maybe starved, too!"

"Get me some light in here, not too harsh," said Evek, jogging over. "Evek to _Vetar_, get Sickbay ready for about a dozen victims of sexual violence."

The Gul approached the women slowly; they were huddled in a corner, some shivering and trembling, the others dead-eyed.

"Please do not be alarmed," said Evek. "You are under Cardassian protection now. The Kazon are being transported to our Brig for trial and execution. Is there one called Kes here?"

A blonde, pointed-eared woman with bruises on her face stood up, looking resigned. "I am Kes," she said. "How may I serve you, Master?"

"I am here with your friend Neelix," said Gul Evek. "He will be quite grateful to see you alive. Gil Ocett!"

"Yes, my Gul?" asked _Vetar_'s only surviving female security officer, blinking in the relative dimness of the shack.

"These women have been subjected to… much unpleasantness. They may not trust men; please convince them to stay calm after we transport them."

"Yes, my Gul," said Ocett with a salute. "With your permission, sir, I will help them adjust to the new situation, as well."

"Permission granted. Captain Tuvok! Has your ship found our missing men yet?"

"I have just received a transmission from the _Val Jean_," said Tuvok. "There is a tunnel in the rock approximately a quarter-mile from here that should lead us to the city where our missing crew were detected. Hopefully, we will not be too late."

* * *

><p>The half-Klingon was steaming mad at everything in her general vicinity. Lieutenant Kim—for all of one minute before he was kidnapped, subjected to excruciating experiments, and sent to this underground city with a strange disease slowly killing him—was trying valiantly to remain calm and remember his training on being captured by possibly-hostile aliens. The more senior Cardassian was sitting calmly, scrutinizing every inch of the room, while the other argued with Torres.<p>

"Dirty Cardassian!" shouted Torres, shoving Gil Kalar backwards into a wall. "You're trying to blame US for this? It's your fault, you stinking spoonhead!"

"Hey! If there's anyone who stinks here, it's you, terrorist! It's the age of replicators in every ship in the quadrant, and the best you child-killing scum can do is refugee scraps? I can smell you from all the way over here!"

"We don't kill children, spoonhead! You and your filth do that!"

"Vole sh*t! You want to know how many people died from that bomb you put in the city hall on Tara IV? Three hundred and eighty-seven! Including fifteen children! My niece was in the school next door! Your cell's damn bomb killed over three hundred people!"

"Collateral damage, spoonhead filth! If you think that—"

Kalar launched himself off the wall and crashed into Torres, his hands around her neck.

"I believe that now would be the appropriate time to intervene," said the senior Cardassian to Harry above the sound of the Maquis and Cardassian brawling.

"Yeah, probably. You get Kalar, I'll get Torres."

"Getting Torres" proved harder than it sounded. Glinn Tarak pulled Kalar off of the enraged woman, who immediately got up and tried to strangle the young Cardassian. Harry grabbed her and tried to pull her backwards, and found himself on his back, winded, with a piercing pain in his groin.

Definitely should've taken hand-to-hand at the Academy.

By the time he regained his feet and capacity for coherent speech, Torres and Kalar were both sitting rather sheepishly on Tarak's bed and holding their heads as Tarak stood over them with arms crossed sternly.

"Ohhhhh…" moaned Harry. "Definitely need to take hand-to-hand combat…"

"They let you onto a starship without that?" Tarak asked mildly.

"It was supposed to be an explorer only, not a warship… and I had the option to take Elementary Wormhole Theory instead. I was hoping to be posted to DS9 to study the wormhole…"

"Ah. You may want to have your gonads examined by a physician if and when we are rescued. The doctors here do not appear to be very effective."

Harry snickered painfully at that.

* * *

><p>"On your knees!" shouted Gul Aman Evek, supremely tired of this whole situation. "All of you! You! You look like a leader. Where are my men?"<p>

"The… the strangers?" asked the cowering Ocampan man. "O… over there, those rooms are used for the dying ones."

"With me. Evek to _Vetar_, prepare to transport five to…"

A door near where the Ocampan man had pointed exploded outwards as two white-clothed Ocampa flew outwards, followed shortly by a Klingon/Human hybrid and an enraged young Cardassian. Both had obvious sores and seemed ill, but the Ocampa were accustomed to lives of sedate boredom, unlike the harsh military training of Cardassian soldiers or the frontier lifestyles that most Maquis has had prior to the Cardassian/Federation war.

"My Gul!" said an older Cardassian with a salute, walking smoothly out of the ruined doorway with a pudgy Human man at his side. "I apologize for Gil Kalar, he is having a most unpleasant day. The Klingon half-breed is one of the Maquis terrorists, and this Human is a Starfleet officer."

"Yes, he's with Captain Stadi here. Maquis, you are under arrest for murder in the first degree, terrorist acts, and murder in the third degree of minors as accidental casualties. You may elect to be tried under Captain Stadi's court when she creates one, but until that point you will be confined to the starship _Val Jean_ under guard by Cardassian and Federation forces."

The Klingon hybrid went for Evek's throat. He grabbed her arms with an iron grip that belied his middle age, and swiftly pinned her struggling body in a pincer hold.

"Don't you dare try to best me in hand-to-hand," snarled Gul Evek. "I have ten years of advanced melee combat training and five of short- to medium-range marksmanship. Do NOT disrespect me by trying to get a Klingon promotion at my expense."

"I'll take her now, Evek," said Stadi.

"Of course," said Evek. "Tarak, Kalar, welcome back."

"_Vetar_ to Gul Evek! This is Daran Taril, we just detected a fleet of starships entering the system at warp 7! They're headed straight for the array!"

"Beam us up!" snapped Evek. "Even if only Nacene can operate the teleportation controls, we still need that array! Full power to the weapons and shields, we'll get our best chance to return to Cardassia's service or die trying!"

* * *

><p>"My Gul! The Kazon are hailing us!"<p>

"Might as well take it. On screen."

"Ha, ha, ha!" snorted an obese Kazon. "More fools to make slaves! Ha, ha, ha! I am First Maje Jal Retak of the Kazon-Ogla! Surrender and I may allow some of you to live after I take that space station! Ha, ha, ha!"

"Shut that moronic thug off," snapped Evek, trying valiantly to avoid rolling his eyes at the Kazon's arrogance. "Taril, tactical analysis."

"Reading three carrier-class capital ships, each one about three klicks long. About fifty raider-class attack ships each about the same size as a Cardassian frigate. Weapons are phasers, looks like early photon torpedoes. Shields and weapons tech seem primitive; maybe like the stuff the Federation was using around the time we made first contact. I'd say ten of those raiders versus the _Voyager_ in its current state would be a bit of a challenge; with us and that Maquis ship, plus whatever that station can do…"

"The blob is dying, Taril. It can't or won't operate the device to send us home, and it's impossible for humanoids to operate. All we have is that thing's tetryon cannons."

"Great. Kazon vessels incoming at high impulse, they will be within weapons range in 30 seconds."

"Evek to Stadi."

"Stadi here!"

"Synch to our TacNet. Tuvok, try to flank those capitals. _Voyager_ and _Vetar_ will take on the raiders and draw fire from the carriers. Ocett, is the array working for you?"

"Yes, my Gul! I have propulsion and weapons online!"

"Excellent. Taril, attack pattern Macet One! Kalar, generate a tachyon pulse to strip the lead capital's shields. For Cardassia!"

The _Vetar_ leaped forwards, spiral wave disruptors charged.

"Kazon vessels are in range! They are firing phasers! Minimal damage!" Kalar's reports were fast and relatively calm.

"Taril, shoot to kill. Open fire."

"Yes, my Gul! Targeting the lead capital with an overload pulse!"

The disruptors fired, a piercing beam of light striking through the depths of space. The Kazon warship's shields flickered.

"Enemy vessel's forward shields are down to five percent! Launching torpedoes, maximum yield!"

One of the torpedoes slammed into the shields, its antimatter detonation only scratching the Kazon ship, but the other slammed into the carrier's bulbous prow, the explosion instantly destroying a dozen decks. The Kazon starship reeled in space, drifting sideways and crushing one of its raiders before the smaller ship could get out of the way. A phaser shot to its side and it detonated explosively.

"Fire on the raiders! Attack pattern Lemek Beta, fire at will!"

The Kazon raiders tried to swarm, to outflank the Alpha Quadrant starships, but a blitzkrieg of beam fire from the two cruisers left them limping back towards the cover of the two remaining capitals, which were, despite their forward-heavy weapons arrays, positioning themselves for broadsides on either side of the cruisers for some unfathomably stupid reason; Evek barked a quick order, and disruptor fire tore into the facing shields as the _Vetar_'s warning sirens blared under the Kazon assault.

Stadi fired a tricobalt device.

The gleaming blue torpedo slammed through the weakened starboard shields of the second carrier and tore into its midsection, the detonation ripping through half of the ship and igniting the warp core instantly. In under a second, the massive capital ship was reduced to floating dust.

"Crazy daughter of a vole… I like this woman! Taril, focus on those raiders!"

"Sir!" said Kalar. "Reading more Kazon ships inbound! It looks at least five more capitals…"

There was a tremendous explosion, and a screamed curse from Taril. Evek's chest slammed against his restraint harness; he realized, after a moment, what must have happened. A doomed Kazon raider had crashed into the ship…

"Damage report!"

"Hull breaches on four decks, my Gul! Impulse engines are damaged, disruptor bank 2 is offline! _Voyager_ is moving to cover us!"

"This is Captain Tuvok," said a calm voice over the communications network. "I have a firing solution on the remaining Kazon capital ship. Opening fire."

The _Val Jean_ streaked out of the darkness behind the Kazon carrier and sent phaser pulses and antimatter warheads lancing into its rear engine pods. The massive ship glowed from within and erupted.

"More Kazon ships inbound!" shouted Stadi over the communications link. "We're mopping up the raiders, they seem to be able to take only about three or four shots apiece, but there are five capitals inbound!"

"I've got the station working!" shouted Ocett. "Moving it behind the fifth planet, that's a gas giant that might be able to help hide it from sensors!"

"Good idea," said Evek. "Stadi, prepare a full spread of those tricobalt warheads. Taril, Kalar, I want those Kazon capitals' shields down as soon as possible!"

"Understood, my Gul!"

"Kazon ships exiting warp," said Stadi. "Tricobalt spread ready."

A wave of about thirty raiders dropped out of warp; all three ships opened fire with energy weapons.

"Bastard sons of nag-atin are hard to track that close to carriers," snarled Taril. "Firing all weapons, my Gul!"

"Ten Kazon ships still up!" reported Kalar. "Kazon capitals exiting warp!"

Stadi fired the spread, a dozen tricobalt warheads on subwarp missiles streaking out in every direction, some helping the _Vetar_'s disruptors swat the last raiders out of space as_Val Jean_'s weapons impacted against the carriers' shields while the rest blasted the lead two carriers into dust.

"Three Kazon capitals still up—they are launching fighters!"

"Concentrate on the capitals! We can withstand the fighters!"

Kazon phaser fire and photon torpedoes slammed into the Cardassian warship's shields; Evek swore as the red alert sirens blared and a console exploded.

"Hull structural integrity at 79%! Hull breach on deck 10!"

"Return fire!"

Stadi's ship fired a high-yield photon torpedo that slammed into one of the three remaining carriers' forward weapons arrays just as they powered up for another volley; the feedback pulse shorted out the Kazon ship's EPS grid and the core detonated as it lost antimatter containment.

The second remaining capital's fore shields took a withering hail of fire from the Maquis and Cardassian ships, photon torpedoes slamming into its hull. Another volley from_Voyager_'s phasers and it detonated.

"My Gul! The last Kazon ship, it's headed straight for us at high impulse!"

"Evasive maneuvers!"

"Impulse engines are damaged, I can't make it in time!"

"Tuvok to _Vetar_. I am transporting my men to _Voyager_. I shall attempt to ram the Kazon carrier. This should destroy it before it hits the _Vetar_."

"Stadi to transporter room, get me a lock on Tuvok and beam him out, now!'

"Course locked," said Tuvok.

The Maquis raider _Val Jean_ streaked past the beleaguered Cardassian warship at one-quarter of the speed of light.

"Full power to shields!" barked Evek.

The ships collided, and the Kazon carrier detonated in a brilliant flash of light and dust, the shockwave slamming into the Cardassian vessel and causing even more sirens to blare.

"My Gul, shields are down and forward disruptors are damaged. But the Kazon are down and there are no more contacts on sensors, at least at the moment."

"Excellent," said Gul Evek, scratching behind his ear where it always got itchy under stress. "Stadi, did you get Tuvok out?"

"Stadi here, we have him!"

"Good. He is a brave and sensible man. It would be a shame for him to die like a drunken Klingon."

* * *

><p>"Enter," said Gul Aman Evek.<p>

"Sir?" said a Romulan with short-cropped jet-black hair, entering cautiously. "May I talk with you for a moment?"

"Yes...you were one of the Kazon prisoners, yes?"

"Yes, sir. Alina t'Aimne, _Arrain_ and _ih'hwi'saehne_, ch'R _Vermithrax_. The _ahlh aehallhai_ got us, killed half the crew in the transit and half the rest in the those sick experiments, then left us for the Kazon. _Riov_ t'Khellian tried to fight them; they...they _used_ her until she died. And they _laughed_. Those monsters thought it was funny."

"What do you want?"

"I want to work for you. I have ten years of experience as…"

"Whatever you can do, I need it. Fortunately, my ship's counselor survived; talk to Glinn Nirymer, the Lethean, if you need help. He's a merc, but well paid, and a good man. And I give you my personal promise that we will _destroy_ every one of these Kazon scum that we encounter. Moronic thugs are one thing, but these are evil monsters as well. Do you want to help in the interrogations and executions?"

"I want to watch," said t'Aimne, dark eyes glittering. "I want to look into their eyes and see them burn."

"I believe that could be arranged," said Evek.

Like most Cardassians, Gul Aman Evek was a calm, collected, quiet sort. But when he was forced to action...he was ruthless. Without mercy.

It was the Cardassian way.

* * *

><p>"Enter," said Stadi, checking her uniform self-consciously.<p>

"Hello?" said a brunette alien of a species Stadi didn't know. "Sir… I… um…"

"Yes? Oh, you're one of the women we rescued from the Kazon, yes?"

"Yes," said the woman, nodding somewhat timidly. "I'm… they call me Dukh."

"Is that your name?"

"It's what the Kazon call me. I think it's an animal they know."

"... I see." Stadi felt the cold rage boil up again. "Do you remember your name?"

"I think… I think my name was Ora. The Kazon, they've had me for what seems like forever…"

"Understood," said Stadi. "Do you need a counselor? T'Pai's not a real counselor, but she's telepathic and has a little training…"

"I… I just don't want...don't want to hurt."

"All right," said Stadi, standing up and gently taking the woman by the shoulder.

She shied away, almost imperceptibly.

"Did the doctors help you? If you haven't gone to Sickbay yet, is there anything about your species, any medical needs, that we might need to know?"

"I… I don't know."

"All right. I'll just lead you down to Sickbay, and we can get you checked out…"

The woman nodded slowly. Stadi gently took her hand and ushered her into the turbolift.

"Kim, mind the Bridge for me."

"Yessir."

"Thanks. Deck 5."

The woman clutched Stadi's hand in a vise-like grip the entire way.

"T'Pai?" called Stadi as she entered. "I need your help for this one, the EMH isn't going to work."

"You are cleared for duty," said T'Pai to one of the Maquis men, finishing sealing a cut on his forehead. "Captain. What do you require?"

"Ayala, I need a minute with you when we're done here. T'Pai, Ora here hasn't reported to Sickbay for her exam and therapy yet. Could you handle—"

"Yes, Captain. T'Pai to Nirymer."

"Yeah? What do you need, Vulcan?"

"I have another patient. She appears to be suffering from acute post-traumatic stress."

"Good, you need a lesson on that. Bring her over and I'll show you the ropes of PTSD. It's tricky, you have to be gentle, but if you catch it early enough it's easily treatable."

"I'll just leave you here with T'Pai, all right?" said Stadi. "I have to go talk to some of the crew about a new chain of command, but T'Pai and Evek's counselor will help you out, all right?"

The woman nodded shortly and let go of Stadi grudgingly, allowing T'Pai to run her over with a medical tricorder.

"Report to me when you're done, Commander."

Ayala was mercifully waiting outside.

"Yes?" asked the big man. "What did you need?"

"I need a security chief," said Stadi. "I'd ask Tuvok, but he said he would be better used elsewhere, and he's my first choice for XO unless he wants the big seat himself anyway. Your fellow Maquis said that you're the best fighter except for your late leader, and you have a military background. How would you like to be chief of security?"

"Will the Cardies go for that?"

"Evek said that as long as you all serve out the remainder of your sentences when we return, time in service counts as time served. On top of that, it'll be decades before we get back, so if and when we return to Earth you probably won't serve a day."

"I accept, then."

"Just like that?"

"Sir, Chakotay and I set a bomb on Tara IV. It was meant to kill the local governor—nasty piece of work, he was—but we miscalculated the yield, and it took out half of a school for officer's kids that was next door to the governor's offices. Hundreds of people died, including children. Torres, Seska, and some of the others may have been all right with that, but I'm not, and if possible, I want Evek to know. I'll do anything you need me to, sir; I've got a lot of blood to wash out."

"I'll see what I can do," said Stadi. "Thank you for being honest with me."

* * *

><p>Maje Jabin woke up in harsh light.<p>

"Guahhh… what the hell is that?"

"Ah, you're awake," said a calm voice, colder than the depths of interstellar space. "You know, there is one thing that I loathe more than idiotic thugs. And that is those who violate women. I have a wife, you know, two daughters in the civil service and a son in the Guard. I have a sister, two granddaughters, and a niece. I don't like rapists."

"Who...who are you? Where am I?"

"I am Gul Aman Evek of the Cardassian Fourth Order. You, my little man, are in Hell."

There was a humming sound, building up to a piercing whine.

"You have been found guilty—under Federation legal protocols, no less—of over five hundred counts of murder, rape, theft, piracy, and crimes against sentience. You make the worst excesses of Cardassia during the Bajoran Occupation seem tame, and on top of that you are quite possibly the stupidest excuse for a commanding officer that I have ever had the misfortune to meet. I have but two questions for you, both of which you will answer truthfully: Do you have anything to say in your defense, and do you wish to be punished by Federation or Cardassian methods?"

"Ha!" spat Maje Jal Jabin. "You think that women are worth anything? They are nothing more than animals to be used as men please! Do your worst, fool!"

"Does this satisfy you, Tuvok?"

"Given our resources and situation, yes," said another voice, even and emotionless.

"Thank you," said Evek. And suddenly Jabin's body was on fire, every neuron in his body shrieking in a world of unbearable agony as thousands of watts arced through his body.

He was dead in under five seconds. But every single one seemed like an eternity.

"That," said Gul Evek, "is how Cardassians punish criminals of this magnitude. Let the punishment fit the crime."

* * *

><p><em>Personal log, Gul Aman Evek, Cardassian Fourth Order.<em>

_Lycoris._

_You'll probably never hear this. But I want to say it anyway… I love you. I love you with everything in my being, no matter how tense our relationship has become after our sons' deaths._

_I am currently fifty years from Cardassia. Fifty years at maximum sustainable speed. Fifty years from home. From my family. From you._

_Due to the circumstances, I was forced to allow the Federation captain, an inexperienced but competent young woman named Stadi, to take the terrorists in as a form of serving their Federation sentences. It irks me, but we are one ship in unexplored space. We need the superior equipment of the Federation science vessel, while they need the firepower of the _Vetar_._

_Our first major opponent was a species called the Kazon. They are unimpressive foes, primitive, violent, and incredibly stupid. This is a warp-capable species that was literally able to kill themselves with a REPLICATOR, if our new guide is to be believed._

_Our new guide is a man named Neelix. I found him mildly annoying in personal appearance and grooming habits, but a decent sort in his own way. He is a trader in this area, and while he admits that his knowledge is as far from perfect and all-encompassing as his expertise, he has been willing to share considerable information on local species and power balances._

_Frankly, said species and power balances are unimpressive. The only major power here is the aforementioned Kazon, the other local species controlling a few systems at most._

_We have adapted the alien technology that brought us here, cannibalizing the power cores, hull, and weapons in order to retrofit and repair our ships in order to face the quadrant. I wish you were here, my love. It is beautiful, I miss you, and I could really use your special touch with people right about now. The Kazon had captives, you see. Don't worry, I gave them a suitably painful and humiliating end._

_I have a new sensor officer, a Romulan woman who we rescued from the Kazon. She is polite, competent, driven. Very much a Cardassian in spirit. Gil Taril has joined the crew full-time; I hope that we return faster than expected for him, as well as myself; his wife is pregnant and no father deserves to miss the birth of his child, especially for a reason such as this._

_Stay safe, my love. Do what you can to keep Skrain Dukat out of any position that could make him Legate—he is a dangerous and untrustworthy man who looks at a choice between light and darkness and chooses the darkness, every time._

_I love you._

_Your husband,_  
><em>Aman Evek.<em>

* * *

><p><em>Captain's log, stardate 48316.1. We have scavenged the Caretaker's array for its hull material, weapons, and power source; initial estimates have both the <em>Voyager_ and the _Vetar_ being able to sustain a cruising velocity of Warp 8.5 with these enhancements. At that rate, we should be home in about fifty years._

_The victims of the Kazons' brutal and violent society have joined our crews, some on the_ Vetar_, some on _Voyager_. Our current total crew complement is three hundred and two, including the Maquis survivors who we have accepted provisionally into Starfleet. Commander Tuvok has accepted a position as my executive officer, stating that I have shown promise and potential and that he wishes to see me fulfill said potential. I only hope that I can do so._

_T'Pai is taking lessons on counseling from Gul Evek's counselor, a Lethean man named Nirymer. He seems friendly enough._

_Evek executed the Kazon prisoners after the best trial we could whip up. I am of two minds about this: on the one hand, those were murdering, rapist pirates and we don't have the space or crew to hold on to twenty-odd Kazon in the brig. On the other hand… execution isn't something the Federation does. We're supposed to be better than that. Commander Tuvok has agreed to help me through this emotional turmoil._

_Deities. By the time we get home, I'll be an old woman, if we're lucky. Many of the crew will likely never see their families again._

_It's a sobering thought._

_Deities. I didn't want to be a captain! I'm just a pilot, for the First Deity's sake! But Tuvok says that I have potential, and he served under Captain Sulu… and the crew have accepted me quite easily. I just hope that I can be as good of a captain as they need._

_The Maquis are serving their sentences for terrorism as Starfleet officers. Gul Evek was somewhat upset about this, but agreed that as a matter of convenience it would have to do. On the off-chance that we do get back home in this lifetime, they have agreed to serve any time remaining on their sentences in a Federation penitentiary, with time on Voyager counting as time served._

_I just hope that we find a wormhole or SOMETHING to get home sooner. I don't even want to think about making this a generational ship._

_Well. I've rambled on long enough. Could have been a worse first Captain's Log._

_Computer, end log._

* * *

><p>"Commander, are we ready?" asked Stadi, sitting in her Captain's chair.<p>

"Yes," said Tuvok. "Helm control reports that our course is laid in. We are synchronized with the _Vetar_."

"Bridge to Engineering, how's the alien core synching with our systems?"

"All systems are go, Captain," said Ballard over coms. "Torres, keep an eye out for any power fluctuations."

"Gul Evek, are you ready?"

"At your leisure, Captain," said the Cardassian on the viewscreen.

"All right. Engage."


	2. Lizard-Women from Another Dimension!

**The Mysterious Case of Neelix's Lungs**

**Episode 1x2: "Lizard-Women from Another Dimension!" by starswordc & worffan101**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note, by worffan101: <strong>

So this is the second installment of my second real collab with starswordc, part of a series aimed at being not quite as problematic as the original show.

StarSword-C and I have long complained on the _Star Trek Online_ forums about various aspects of _Voyager_, ranging from Janeway's inconsistent and often psychopathic characterization, to the sheer offensiveness of Chakotay's vaguely-defined ethnicity, to the many, many dangling plot threads, to Kenneth Biller's abject writing incompetence, to Harry Kim's eternal inability to get promoted, get laid by someone non-evil, or get a script worthy of his actor's talents, to the way nobody ever listened to Tuvok, to Neelix in general…

You probably get the idea.

This series arose from me watching one _Voyager_ episode too many as part of my research for a story that I wrote set in the Delta Quadrant, based on a prompt on the STO forums. My Janeway Rage (as I've taken to calling it based loosely on an off-hand comment made by a friend who's sick and tired of hearing me complain about Janeway's poor characterization) was reaching critical levels, and finally I sat down to write a Caretaker AU where Janeway was dead and the Cardassians who were chasing Chakotay got snagged as well. I linked StarSword to the document, took his advice on a few ideas (namely, killing Chakotay because if we were to make him reasonably inoffensive from an ethnic point of view he'd be unrecognizable), and it sort of mushroomed into this massive project that sucked up half of my time in finals week. Luckily I did alright on my exams.

We have about three seasons of about eight stories each planned out. It should be a fun ride; since we're exploring all of the implications of the things we bring up, it's going to be a bit more grimdark than canon, but I hope that we can keep it uplifting.

Anyway, this series will focus primarily on rewriting some of _Voyager_'s better episodes—that is, those with decent concepts that were screwed up by executive incompetence, rather than bad concepts. *cough* macroviruses, "Threshold" *cough*. We intend to keep a reasonably connected plot thread going; any damage sustained will be accounted for in the next episode, for example, and plot threads will not be left dangling for three and a half seasons.

The Doctor, here referred to as "Lieutenant Emergency Medical Hologram", will be changed as little as possible, because frankly he's pretty damn cool already.

There will be some original material, based on interesting ideas that Star and I come up with. Such is the following story, based around a species I designed in my spare time while under the influence of too much Red Bull, too little sleep, pressing Biology finals, and the webcomic _Girl Genius_.

Thank you very much for reading, and I hope that you enjoy this little chapter in our story.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Main and recurring cast:<strong>

Gul Aman Evek, CO, CDS _Vetar_: Richard Poe.

Acting Dalin Hogue Marritza, tactical officer, CDS _Vetar_: Eric Etebari

Gil Kalar, operations officer, CDS _Vetar_: Sean Maher.

Glinn Emil Tarak, security chief, CDS _Vetar_: Nathan Fillion.

Glinn Nirymer, CMO and chief therapist, CDS _Vetar_: Murphy Guyer.

Acting Gil Daran Taril, helmsman, CDS _Vetar_: Alan Tudyk.

Provisional Glinn Alina i'Kevratas t'Aimne, sensor officer CDS _Vetar_: Morena Baccarin.

Gil Kerani Ocett, security officer, CDS _Vetar_: Gina Torres.

Captain Veronica Stadi, CO, USS _Voyager_: Alicia Coppola.

Commander Tuvok, XO, USS _Voyager_: Tim Russ.

Lieutenant Harry Kim, operations officer, USS _Voyager_: Garret Wang.

Lieutenant Commander T'Pai, CMO USS _Voyager_: Aly Michalka

Lieutenant Lyndsay Ballard, ChENG, USS _Voyager_: Kim Rhodes.

Lieutenant Ayala, security chief, USS _Voyager_: Tarik Ergin.

Lieutenant Emergency Medical Hologram, deputy CMO, USS _Voyager_: Robert Picardo.

Lieutenant JG B'Elanna Torres, deputy ChENG, USS _Voyager_: Roxanne Dawson

Ensign Tom Paris, helmsman/tactical officer, USS _Voyager_: Robert Duncan McNeill.

Crewman Celes Tal, sensor chief, USS _Voyager_: Zoe McLellan.

Ensign Samantha Wildman: Nancy Hower.

Neelix: Ethan Phillips.

Kes: Jennifer Lien.

**Guest-starring:**

_jir ni zaran_ Ar'tana Nivat, CO, HZA_ Naarat_: The Rock.

_zir_ S'lin Ta'kat, CSO, HZA_ Naarat_: Andy Serkis.

_jian_-caste Ha'ni communications officer: Manu Bennet.

_jaranat_ Khanlat Nik'tu, XO and helm officer, HZA_ Naarat_: Michael Caine.

_tanit_ S'a'tak Akh'Sat, security chief and chief tactical officer, HZA_ Naarat_: The Undertaker.

Maje Hozak: Stephen Fry.

* * *

><p><em>Unknown system, 10 light-years out of the Ocampa system, Delta Quadrant<br>Federation Stardate 48327.79 (20 February 2371 Earth Standard)  
>Cardassian Unified Date 4701.7.3104_

Two starships, castaways far from home, floated in the void above a dead world. One, a teardrop-shaped medium cruiser, pale gray with bullet-shaped nacelles far astern. The other, floating off its companion's starboard wing, was gold-colored, resembling a large, flat fish. Eight shuttles of varying classes held a picket an astronomical unit out while hardsuited crew members scuttled across the motherships, checking the welded panels patching great rents in both hulls.

Aboard the _Intrepid_-class vessel, a dozen senior officers from both ships sat around a table in the command deck wardroom. "First order of business," said Gul Aman Evek. "Food. Replicators are probably going to have to go on rationing."

"Agreed," said Captain Veronica Stadi. "I think that order number two should be information. Maps. Find someone who knows this sector, find a way to avoid those Kazon. They're idiots, but a lot of idiots can still fuck you up."

"Well said," nodded Evek. "Power conservation and information, two most critical parts of a deep-space survival situation. Holodecks?"

"Stay up, if there's enough power. We need them for therapeutic and training purposes."

"Good, don't want our people going stir-crazy. Tuvok, anything to add?"

"I will need to discuss a rather private matter with our Vulcan crew members. I will brief Captain Stadi as is necessary. In general, however, I agree."

"All right. Stadi?"

"I think… Those Ocampa, they relied almost exclusively on that alien for food, but they also had a lot of hydroponics."

"Kes," Lieutenant Ayala said. "She might be able to set a hydroponics bay or two up for us."

"It would ease the strain on the life support systems as well as provide food," Tuvok added.

"Good idea," Evek agreed. "Gil Ocett?"

"Sir?" said the Cardassian woman, sticking her head in the door.

"Get Neelix and Kes in here, now."

"Yes, my Gul."

"While we wait…" The gul reached for his comlink. "Evek to Kalar."

"Yes, my Gul?" said the young Cardassian through Evek's link.

"Get some scans of local space. Any ships, anybody who might know the area and doesn't like the Kazon, I want to know where they are and how to talk to them."

"Yes, my Gul."

"Next on the agenda," Stadi said. "Fuel and ammunition."

"Most of the parts for photon torpedoes can be replicated," said Evek. "Expensive as hell but they're doable. We're going to need dilithium for spare drive crystals, as well as anti-hydrogen and deuterium."

The black-haired human lieutenant sitting next to Stadi tapped a hand on the table. "Deuterium's the easy part," Harry Kim said. "It's just heavy hydrogen. Anywhere there's water, you've got a ready supply."

Evek nodded. "Dilithium and antimatter, then. I assume your ship has an onboard antimatter generator?"

"Low-capacity and very power-intensive, but yes, we do," Stadi confirmed.

"Captain Stadi," Dalin Hogue Marritza, the _Vetar_'s new tactical officer, asked, "what about those tricobalt weapons you used against the Kazon?"

"Not readily replaceable, not with what we've got with us," the blond Ensign Paris answered with a shake of his head. "The warhead requires exotic elements we'd need special equipment to make."

"_Shtel_. Very well, next item. We still need spare reaction mass for these alien power cores—Engineering is sending me a full report on their workings and fuel in ten minutes."

"Oh, we already got that," said a brunette Human woman in Ops colors. "They're actually pretty interesting. They run on perigium supported by a thoron-infused superconductor magnetic system. Looks like we won't need to refuel them as often as our standard warp cores, but the way we got 'em hooked up we're going to be running mostly the warp cores."

"Thank you, Lyndsay," said Stadi. "I mean, Lieutenant Ballard. Next order of business… psychotherapy. T'pai and Evek's man Nirymer have been training, or more accurately he's been teaching her how to do basic therapy and counseling. I'll get some of my own as soon as I've got the time. Ideally, we can get some of the Kazon victims ready to fill support roles or something—"

"You needed us, Sir?" asked Neelix, entering cautiously.

"Scratch that," said Stadi. "I just had an idea. Kes, hello."

"Hi…" said Kes with a timid smile.

"She just got out of therapy," said Neelix with an apologetic smile. "The Kazon, they gave her something called post-traumatic stress, you see."

"Understood. Kes, do you know hydroponics?"

"Y… yes, Sir. What do you want me to do?"

"Ballard, I want you to have Torres work with Kes here to rework one of the unused cargo bays into a hydroponics bay. We'll get you some helpers, it'll be a great way to get the other Kazon prisoners used to normal life again."

"I want the same on the _Vetar_," said Evek. "My chief of engineering will help you."

"Thank you!" said Kes, her eyes alight with a real smile. "Thank you! I'll make you the best hydroponics bay ever! You won't be disappointed!"

"I'm sure we won't," said Stadi.

"I can help," suggested Neelix. "I know a few things about cooking, I was the chef and morale officer on a Talaxian cruiser once."

"Sounds good to me," said Evek. "See if you can whip up a good stew, or whatever is popular in the Federation. It doesn't need to be perfect, just edible."

"Yes, Sir," Neelix agreed with a surprisingly crisp salute. "Pleasure to help, Sir!"

"Dismissed," said Evek. The Talaxian and Ocampa left, Kes excitedly telling Neelix about her ideas for the hydroponics bay.

"That's food done," said Stadi. "We'll need information, though."

Abruptly Evek's comlink chimed. "Yes?"

"Gul Evek?" came Gil Kalar's voice. "I have a wormhole on sensors, ten klicks out… hang on, something just came out! It's a starship, unknown configuration!"

"Sound red alert! I'm on my way," said Evek, the officers standing and moving for the exit.

* * *

><p><em>Unexplored space, universe designate 2. Tr'akh'ss standard date Fifth Extended Day, standard year, 8462. <em>

"On viewer," said _jir ni zaran_ Nivat.

"Two unidentified ships, _jir_," said _jaranat_ Nik'tu. "Origin and configuration unknown."

"To be expected, given where we are. Try to establish communications."

"Yes, _zaan_. _Tanit_, hail those ships on all frequencies...try lightspeed coms, too. They don't look terribly advanced, but there is some energy field that I can't identify…"

"Coms link open," reported a slim, mottled-scaled _jian_ Ha'ni at the coms station. "Subspace coms active."

"Greetings, unidentified species," said _jir_ Nivat in homeworld-accented Ha'ni. "I am _jir ni zaran_ Ar'tana Nivat, _zaan_ of the Ha'ni scout vessel _Naarat_. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

An oddly-shaped alien, with pinkish-gray scales and a curved scale, possibly a crest, on her forehead, appeared on the viewscreen. It said something, but Nivat couldn't understand it.

"Translation algorithms adjusting," reported the _tanit_ at coms. "Try again, _zaan_."

"I say again, I am _jir ni zaran_ Ar'tana Nivat, _zaan_ of the Ha'ni scout vessel _Naarat_. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

"Ah, good," said the alien woman. "Universal translators are working. Greetings, _jir ni zaran_ Nivat-I do hope that I pronounced that correctly. I am Gul Aman Evek, Cardassian Fourth Order. Are you familiar with this region of space? We are willing to trade for information."

"We are explorers, Gul Evek," said Nivat, her vocal cords struggling around the alien words. "This universe was suggested by the _zhir'iae_ for possible colonization; my mission is to explore and map this sector for the Ha'ni _zhirat_. Are you in need of assistance?"

"Yes. We are about fifty years of travel from home at standard faster-than-light cruising velocities, and we were just discussing the need for information on this sector."

"I see. We would be willing to trade information and maps of this sector, although we are not in particular need of any supplies. May I wormjump over to your ship?"

"Of course. Sending transporter coordinates now. Gil Ocett! I need four men to the bridge, now. Standard security gear, we have a guest and I do not want to upset—" Evek said a word that the computer didn't translate.

"Coordinates received," said the _tanit_. "They do not appear to have any wormjump facilitators on board, though."

"That is unusual," said Nik'tu. "_Jir_, will you need a security detail?"

"Send _tanit_ Akh'Sat and Kirana Ta'Kat to the crew deck facilitator. I will meet them there. And someone keep _zir_ Ta'kat occupied while I'm gone!"

"_Ja'cha, zaan_," chirped the _jaranat_ as the titanic _jin_ grabbed her ceremonial rank baldric from her command stool and moved for the ladder to the lower decks.

* * *

><p>Stadi was already in the transporter room when Evek trotted up.<p>

"All right," said the Gul. "Let's see who we're dealing with."

On the transporter pad, the air rippled, seeming to invert upon itself… and a massive alien stepped out.

_Jir_ Nivat was a eight-foot-tall bipedal creature, vaguely similar to a Terran Komodo lizard, broad-shouldered and muscular with a powerful, scaled tail rippling behind his or her mottled black body. The alien wore an embroidered baldric, a utilitarian loincloth, and little else. Evek saluted; the Ha'ni made what might have been a bow in response.

Behind the Ha'ni, space rippled twice more, and two more massive reptiles stepped out.

"Greetings," said Gul Evek. "I am pleased to meet you in person. This is Captain Veronica Stadi of the Federation starship _Voyager_, my deputy security chief Gil Ocett, and three of my security men. May I have the honor of escorting you to the conference room?"

"It would be my honor," said Nivat, voice deep and gravelly. "May I introduce _tanit_ S'a'tak Akh'Sat, my chief of security, and _itan_ Kirana Ta'Kat, one of my security officers. I would have brought my science chief, but it would of course have been highly impolite of me to subject you to the passion of a Ta'kat-broodline _zin_. I've always been something of a scientifically-minded woman, so I should be able to understand whatever is necessary, despite my caste."

"I… see," said Gul Evek. "I apologize, but we are not familiar with your species."

"Neither are we with yours," said Nivat. "I hope that we will be able to reach a tactically advantageous agreement, despite this."

"This way, please," said Stadi courteously, the massive lizards following with a rolling, ambling gait. They had to bend down to get through the doorways.

"Have you no _jin_ on this ship?" asked Nivat.

"If _jin_ means people like you, then no," said Evek. "My tallest man is barely three-quarters of your height."

"What does that word mean?" asked Nivat.

"Which one?"

"Man," she said in a decent approximation of Cardassian, her alien vocal tract struggling around the word.

"Uh… it indicates a male, the biological sex that does not carry offspring."

"What…" said Nivat, mystified. "Like an animal?"

"Excuse me?"

"My apologies, our universe has no sentient species, besides the Ha'ni and the long-extinct Adversaries—a powerful and arrogant race from early in our history that tried and failed to enslave us. Where we are from, there are only women, who lay eggs; the concept of a sex other than woman… it is something only found in nonsentient creatures."

"Well," said Evek slowly, processing this information. "This universe is rather different. Here, I can think of only four single-sex sentient species out of dozens or more, and of that number, two are hermaphrodites, one is a form of sentient amoeboid creature that reproduces by budding, and one species is genetically-engineered with only one gender. Most species here have two sexes, female like Captain Stadi and Gil Ocett here, and male like me and my security men."

"The mammalian is a woman, but you are a second gender?" Nivat seemed interested, but all three Ha'ni were clearly taken aback.

"Yes," Evek replied. "Here is the conference room."

"Thank you," said Nivat, manners acting over confusion. "This is… a most confusing revelation."

"Trust me," chuckled Evek, "I know what you mean. My ship was plucked halfway across the galaxy in an instant by an arrogant alien that proceeded to use my men for medical experiments and tried to keep two of them as breeding stock. Then we encountered a species known as the Kazon, who are not only astoundingly incompetent and unintelligent, but treat women as property of low value on top of that."

The Ha'ni hissed, Nivat starting backwards.

"They _what_? They practice slavery? How disgusting! What sort of primitive _kaz-kanizhki_ could be so uncivilized?"

"The Kazon, apparently," remarked Stadi. "Our guide says that they are something of a power in this part of space; we want to avoid them, because they may be idiots but they still outnumber us several hundred thousand to two."

"I see," Nivat replied, settling somewhat. "Well. You seem to be decent, civilized people; I am willing to share our maps of this region of space with you."

"Thank you," said Gul Evek. "I am not sure what we could give you in trade…"

"Honestly, anywhere out-of-the-way that has interesting ancient ruins or unusual geology," said Nivat. "Just give us the coordinates and we'll explore it, and try to be unobtrusive. I've always been something of an archaeology woman myself, and the public back home loves that stuff; diversity like non-Ha'ni have is weird but entertaining."

"Diversity?" asked Evek.

"Yes," said Nivat. "It may be hard to explain… In a Ha'ni broodline, all members of a particular caste of that broodline will look basically identical. Closely-related broodlines are very similar, too. To us...there is not this broad spectrum of diversity, these shapes and colors that vary with no breaks; there is the spectrum of broodlines, each individually distinct, and the three castes, each distinct with no overlap. The public...to them, and, I must confess, to me, it is interesting, sort of oddly fascinating, that species with very little in the way of distinct castes can have such internal diversity. The public, myself included, finds the sheer variety of shapes portrayed in their art and visible from other species' skeletons to be fascinating. Only one caste, but such variety within that caste, none of it discrete enough to be broodline-based...it is most exciting. I love to explore the ruins of mammalian cultures, and the public eats it up; I might even get funding for a full expedition."

"Well," said Stadi, "that sounds not unlike the Federation. Exploration is in Starfleet's founding writ, after all."

"Sounds like an organization after my own heart," hissed Nivat with a toothy maybe-smile.

"Well," said Evek, "The Cardassian Union is more than happy to give your species access and first-claim rights to this sector, in exchange for maps of the area."

Nivat leaned back against the wall, tail idly scratching her ankle. "Would I be correct in assuming that the Cardassian Union has no power here?"

"Beyond my ship? Honestly, you are correct."

Nivat and her guards made a strangled hissing sound that was probably a laugh. "I like you," she probably-chuckled. "You are an amusing second gender, and I would certainly not mind meeting you again."

Evek smiled in return, leaning back in his chair. "I do try. Cardassia thanks you, _jir_ Nivat."

"It is my pleasure, _zaan'iae_," said the reptile, bowing to Stadi and Evek. "Nivat to _Naarat_!"

"Nik'tu here, _zaan_."

"Start transmitting these mammalians the maps we have of this galaxy so far. And prepare to receive data on the Kazon species from them."

"_Ja'cha, zaan_."

"Thank you, _jir_ Nivat," said Stadi. "We will transmit data on the Federation and its more notable member species, as well. If you will excuse me, I need to return to my ship; I have a counseling-training session to attend."

"Of course," said Nivat.

Red alert sirens blared. "Kalar to Evek!" came from the Gul's combadge.

"Evek here! Report!"

"Kazon starships, my Gul! Four carrier-class capitals, and about thirty raiders, coming in at warp 7! Recalling the shuttles now!"

"Stadi to _Voyager_! Beam me directly to the Bridge! Sound red alert, all hands to battle stations!"

"What…" hissed Nivat, clearly shocked as Stadi vanished in blue light. "Without a wormjump facilitator...never mind. Nivat to _Naarat_, engage and destroy the Kazon! I will assist from this vessel!"

"_Ja'cha, zaan_! _Tanit_, full power to weapons! Activate wormjump interdiction!"

"Follow me to the Bridge," said Evek brusquely. "I will show you Cardassian strategy first-hand. You are in for a treat today."

* * *

><p>"Hail the lead ship!" barked Stadi as she claimed her Captain's chair with a salute to Tuvok.<p>

"On screen, sir!"

"Kazon vessel, this is Captain Veronica Stadi of the Federation starship _Voyager_. Break off your attack and we will allow you to leave this area in peace."

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed a rather usually ugly Kazon with particularly large hair. "The woman thinks it commands a ship! Ha, ha, ha! I can't believe the Ogla lost to these fools! I am Maje Jal Hozak of the Kazon-Relora! You will all be my slaves! Ha, ha, ha!"

"Kazon ship will be in weapons range in thirty seconds," said Kim. "Ha'ni vessel is moving to intercept—and given the scans Crewman Celes has gotten of their weapons, one shot from those guns should take out a Kazon capital."

"Maje Hozak, I am willing to overlook your insults if you break off your attack at once." Stadi's voice was cold and firm.

"Ha, ha, ha!" sniggered the Kazon. "You dishonor your ship by sitting in your master's seat! Kill th—"

"Connection lost, sir!" said Celes.

"Wow," said Lieutenant Kim with a whistle, looking at his console, then at the expanding debris field on the viewscreen, then at his console. "The Ha'ni ship shot one of their energy weapons—some sort of pulse-firing asynchronous phaser cannon—and holed that Kazon ship right down the middle. That… wow, I'm glad we're on their side!"

"Evek to _Voyager_," crackled over Stadi's combadge. "We are moving to cover the Ha'ni ship. Not that it looks like they need it."

"Paris, synch us with the _Vetar_'s TacNet. Move into over-under formation, recall all crew on EV duty by transporter if necessary, and power up the phasers!"

Another Kazon capital burned. Stadi looked to her console, and Harry's scans of the Ha'ni ship. Engine pod, engineering room, crew decks, mess hall—weapons schematics. Two forward-mounted pulse cannons, really all that an agile ship like that normally needed, but the firing range was quite small—the raiders might be able to flank it…

"Harry, what kind of defenses does that Ha'ni ship have?"

"Some sort of hull plating that I don't recognize instead of shields, sir. Whatever it is, the Kazon weapons are having no effect at all besides temporarily heating the points of contact by a few dozen Kelvin."

"Wait, they have no shields?"

"No, they… oh."

"Exactly. Neelix said that the Kazon like to try boarding raids. We have to warn them—Stadi to Evek!"

"Evek here! We just got a hail from the Ha'ni ship! Kazon have beamed off of those raiders and onto the Ha'ni ship's crew decks!"

"Stadi to Ayala! Get four of your best men and get to the transporter room, we're beaming you over to the Ha'ni ship!"

* * *

><p>"Filthy <em>kaz-kanizhki<em>!" spat _jir ni zaran_ Nivat. "Filthy, uncivilized, **arrogant** brutes think they can just take my ship… Gul Evek, I request usage of your superior wormjump technology to return me and my _jin_ to my ship. We will crush the _kaz-kanizhki_ filth!"

"Oh, you can have more than that. Gil Ocett! Take your squad and assist _jir_ Nivat and her forces! We will destroy the Kazon in space. For Cardassia!"

The Gil and her three squad members saluted crisply, and Ocett motioned to the Ha'ni officers to stand by her.

"Ocett to transporter room, seven to beam to the Ha'ni ship."

Nivat felt a strange buzz across her skin as the alien wormjump activated, and then she, her two _jin_, the four aliens, and five armed mammalians in rank garments similar to Stadi's were on her ship. Most likely the mammalian equivalent of _jin_.

"Excellent," hissed Nivat. "We are near the main engineering room. You, mammalian _jin_! Retake control of Engineering with your squad. I will take my escorts and these aliens to support the rest of my crew on the command and crew decks. Fight well!"

Nivat saluted the mammalians, and turned towards the crew decks.

Mother below, it was good to be back on her ship. The aliens had been very polite, but their ship had been brighter than she was comfortable with, and very cold on top of that. She had had to focus to stop herself from stamping her feet during the diplomatic meeting.

"Gil Ocett," Nivat snarled, the alien words tickling her vocal cords. "Take _tanit_ Akh'Sat and one of your _jin_-equivalents. I will take the rest with _jin_ Ta'Kat. I will head for the Bridge while you focus on the laboratories. Fight well!"

"Fight well, _jir_ Nivat. You, with me. For Cardassia!"

* * *

><p>The Ha'ni ship was oppressively hot, even to Ocett. Cardassians generally preferred warmer temperatures than Humans, but the dark, almost stifling heat of the Ha'ni ship was uncomfortable at best.<p>

Cardassians had evolved from surface-dwelling desert lizards, the kind that spent most of their days sunning themselves on rocks and roaming over the sands in search of burrowing prey. The Ha'ni, apparently, were burrowers; their corridors were even vaguely circular, probably for the crew's comfort.

The looming Akh'Sat, all of nine feet tall and something like two hundred kilos at least, broke into a lurching, almost bounding gait at the sound of weapons fire and shouting ahead. Ocett motioned to her squadmate, Getan, to follow, and broke into a trot.

The corridor ahead was much brighter; there was a well-lit laboratory or something off to the—

Something spoke in Ha'ni, and Akh'Sat came to a screeching halt, grabbed both Cardassians, and forced them to the ground with incredible strength before they could react.

"Stay down!" she hissed with what Ocett could only describe as an urgent tone.

There was a sudden roaring explosion, a couple of screams that might've been Kazon, and a giant tongue of flame roared out and flashed over the wall opposite the open doorway.

"What the hell?" wheezed Ocett.

"My apologies," said Akh'Sat, standing and helping the Cardassians to their feet. "This is Ta'kat's laboratory. She is _zin_. Are either of you injured?"

"Just my pride," muttered Ocett. "What the hell was that explosion?"

"EAT FLAMING DEATH, _VEL-KAZ-KANIZHKI_ WHO MATE WITH THE UNCLEAN!"

The speaker was a greenish, downright scrawny Ha'ni, five feet tall at the most, with a short, thin tail not even as long as her legs, a large head, and a massive weapon of some sort half-dragging from one hand.

"Ta'kat," said Akh'Sat with what could best be described as a sigh. "Put down the death ray."

"How do I know those things behind you aren't more stinking mammalians?"

"Because they're with me and they're not shooting me in the back. Now put down the death ray and secure yourself in your lab."

"All right, alright, I… ooh, shiny!"

The little Ha'ni dropped her weapon, which sparked alarmingly, and darted forwards, narrowly avoiding Akh'Sat's grab and tugging out Ocett's disruptor.

"Hey! That's not a toy!"

"Wow!" said Ta'kat. "It's so light! Let's see what kind of power output it can…"

Akh'Sat, with the air of one who had spent most of her adult life doing such things, grabbed Ta'kat, relieved her of the weapon, and carried her protesting form over to the lab.

"Stay," said Akh'Sat, tossing Ocett her weapon. "I mean it, or I will tell the _jir_."

Ta'kat tried what looked like the Ha'ni equivalent of pouting.

"I mean it," said Akh'Sat. "If you don't stay here, I will ensure that your death rays are taken away for an entire week."

"All right…" muttered Ta'kat. "I'll work on the star maps or something…"

As they moved off, Ocett trotted up beside Akh'Sat. "Are you sure that we can just leave her there?"

"Yes," Akh'Sat confirmed with a toothy grin. "S'lin Ta'kat is _zin_-caste. They are… immature. Brilliant, excellent scientists of all disciplines, but...immature. Most have a fascination with highly explosive weapons. The best way to threaten them is to take away what they love most—their shiny, explosive 'toys'."

"They serve regularly on your ships?"

"Of course. Their weapons are extremely effective, as the charred remains of those _kaz-kanizhki_ back there can attest, and over ninety percent of our technological advancements have come from _zin_. Including wormdrive, wormjump tech, and our ship's weapons."

"Wow," said Ocett. "So your society is built around having a decent portion of the population being insane scientists from some Terran holo?"

"I believe that you are correct, yes," said Akh'Sat, reaching around a corner, grabbing a Kazon that had been trying to hide there, and snapping his neck with one massive paw. "There is another squad down this corridor, weapons hot."

Ocett was starting to really like the Ha'ni.

* * *

><p>"Ha, ha, ha!" snorted a large, ugly Kazon as his three goons pointed some sort of primitive phaser weapons at the five Ha'ni engineers. From what Lieutenant Ayala could tell, these Ha'ni were around Human-sized, five-foot-ten or so with three-foot tails. They had smaller jaws and less outsized musculatures than Nivat and her warriors; probably civilians.<p>

"We're gonna be rewarded for stealing a ship like this!" laughed the ugly Kazon again. "Keep them against that wall!"

Ayala pulled back, and motioned to his men—two ex-Maquis and two Starfleet security. He motioned out the Kazon's numbers and positions; two men to shoot the goons on the left, one to take the goon on the right, one to watch their backs, and Ayala himself would take the ugly one.

"Hey, you!" said the ugly Kazon. "Get over here and turn off the power, and I may just let you live instead of using your skin for a cape!"

"How about I use yours?" said Ayala, leaping down into the Ha'ni engineering chamber, the Kazon turning with identical expressions of stunned, gaping stupidity.

That line needed some serious work.

Four shots fired, and the Kazon dropped.

"You alright?" Ayala asked the most senior-looking Ha'ni.

"We are," she said with a brisk nod. "Impressive. Your species uses _jian_ in _jin_ roles?"

"What?" said Ayala.

"You are _jian_, or the equivalent, yes? You're about my size and bulk—"

"Oh! Uh, _jin_ are like Nivat, yes?"

"Like _jir _Nivat, I assume you mean, not like _tanit_ Nivat here… yes, that is correct."

"Right. Well, our species… we don't have giant warriors like that. There's just people, all about the same size and shape."

"Strange," said the Ha'ni, typing something in to a console. "With no _jin_ to fight or _zin_ to advance technology… you must be a nation of bureaucrats and artists!"

Ayala chuckled. "It often seems that way, especially on the core worlds."

"I like you," said the Ha'ni with a ghastly, toothy grin. "You have a good sense of humor. _Tanit_, check the power conduits, those idiotic _kaz-kanizhki_ might've damaged them."

* * *

><p>"Keep our shields over them," snapped Stadi, <em>Voyager<em> keeping pace with the Ha'ni vessel as the frigate spun like a kestrel, spitting fire that obliterated the Kazon ships on contact. "Nik'tu, one last capital coming in in three seconds."

"We see it," hissed the Ha'ni XO over coms. "Raiders are down, boarding parties are under control—_zaan_ in the command chamber!"

"Stadi, this is Nivat," said the Ha'ni commander. "We have regained full command of the _Naarat_. Your _jin_ have by all accounts fought like Ha'ni. The Kazon have been extinguished. Nik'tu, good job here."

"_Jir_ Nivat, we're covering you with our shields; that should keep the Kazon out. One last capital in weapons range, firing phasers…"

"We have it. Open fire."

The frigate's lances pulsed again, and the Kazon carrier was speared by light and heat, detonating instantly.

"No more Kazon contacts on sensors," reported Celes Tal from the sensor station.

"Good," said Stadi. "Drop red alert. _Jir _Nivat, thank you for your assistance."

"And thank you for yours, _zaan_ Stadi. Gul Evek, thank you for your aid."

"You're welcome," said the Cardassian, his warship slipping up alongside _Voyager_'s right flank. "Let's get our people back to their proper ships and finalize this trade, shall we?"

* * *

><p>"Thank you for the maps," said Gul Evek some thirty minutes later. "I don't suppose that you would mind sharing the weapons, stardrive, and hull materials that you use?"<p>

"Unfortunately," hissed Nivat, "our government has rules against that. Technology trades with species that are drastically different technologically… the _zhir'aata_ must sign off on such things personally. As much as I would like to trade for your tactical faster-than-light technology or your energy field technology, I do not have the authority to do so."

"Damn," said Evek. "Another Prime Directive—or something like it, anyway. Stadi, your Federation's setting a bad example!"

"_Jir_ Nivat," said Stadi slowly. "We already have deep penetration scans of your ship, and I presume that you have the same of our vessels. Might I suggest…"

"Well, scans are a whole different matter," said Nivat with the universal tone of someone who was very selectively interpreting the Rules. "I can't _tell_ or _show_ you how to build a wormdrive or _kak'tan'Ak_ hull plating, but I _can _let you leave with the scans. I have some scans of your technology, after all, it would only be fair."

"And I of course can do nothing to keep Cardassia's secrets from you. Fighting you would be pointless, after all. And Cardassia has no Prime Directive, as well." Evek's voice had the very same political tone.

"While I am a Starfleet officer, and thus bound to the Prime Directive," mused Stadi. "We are in no situation to remove the scans from your computers or otherwise hinder your moving on."

"I see that even aliens and mammalians share some basic traits with Ha'ni," said Nivat. "Do you need any assistance with repairs?"

"Thank you for the offer," said Evek, "but we have everything under control."

"Same here," said Stadi. "Mr. Tuvok, you have the Bridge; I have a training session to get to. Farewell, _jir_ Nivat. I hope to meet you again someday."

"Perhaps we shall," said Nivat. "We will likely send an official contact delegation to your species in a few cycles. Gul Evek, it was a pleasure."

"The pleasure was all mine," said Evek. "Farewell."

"Farewell," hissed Nivat. "_Tanit_, next survey point. Engage wormdrive."

A wormhole flared in space, the Ha'ni ship entered it, and it was gone as if it had never been.

"Post-traumatic stress," lectured the Lethean, striding back and forth. "Technically rather easy but _very_ nasty if you don't catch it fast. It's relatively easy in terms of skill needed in the early stages, which makes it an ideal training disorder."

* * *

><p>T'pai was sitting rather stiffly and taking short notes. Stadi herself was somewhat nervous, but excited to learn.<p>

"Now, treatment. Couple different ways to do this. Most people, you just do a partial wipe, dull the emotional response, introduce some blocks to help them avoid thinking about it. It's dwelling on the trauma that really causes problems. Worst case I saw was two decades untreated, I had to use method number two.

"Method number two is what you use on highly emotional species like Romulans, Klingons, Vulcans although they won't admit it in public, as well as people who've had untreated trauma. With Vulcans it's really bad, because the emotional control can mask trauma until they snap, and when they snap… well, Commander T'pai, you probably know what I mean."

"I do," said T'pai mildly.

"Right. The thing about method number two is that it's basically traditional exposure therapy aided by a telepath. Basically acting as a guide and support while the patient confronts his or her trauma. It is absolutely, one thousand percent _critical_ to remain in control of the link at all times during such a therapy session, even more so than usual; if you lose control, you will wind up doing more damage _and_ wrecking your own brain for a couple of days on top of that. Basically, don't lose control of a link, and _especially_ don't lose control during an exposure. I'm going to provide backup for you both, no questions asked, until I am absolutely confident in your ability to remain in control; this is for your safety as well as for medical ethics. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," said both women simultaneously.

"Now. I have a patient, and you two are going to piggyback on my neural link. I'm going to show you the ropes, and if I like what I see I'll let you each take point in our next session. Clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Ora, you may come in now!"

The brunette woman entered hesitantly. _Note the fear,_ Nirymer mind-sent. _She's expecting one of us to just hurt her. But she's even more scared of being hurt for disobedience._

"Sit down here, dear, that's right," the Lethean said out loud, gently guiding the woman to a well-stuffed chair just off of the wall. "Just relax, we're here to help. T'pai, on my right shoulder, Stadi, on my left."

Nirymer kneeled to Ora's left, reaching across her body to gently grasp the sides of her head. _Stay in a relatively non-threatening pose like this if possible. An abuse survivor is like a scared animal in some ways. Avoid anything that can be construed as a threat, even if it's really inconvenient. Now. Link up with me… good. Enter in three… two… one…_

Light. A blur. Flash after flash of images like a strobe…

_Careful! Don't get lost in the stream! Getting lost in a subconscious is bad for your health. _

_We are following,_ sent T'pai. Stadi focused on not letting too much of herself drift into the link.

_Here's a tough spot,_ sent Nirymer, the glittering, translucent forms of the three minds hovering before a projection of an old Terran drive-in movie theater. _The memory's going to be up on that projection, and it's not going to be pretty. _

_We are ready_," said T'pai.

There was a flash, and for what seemed like hours but was really only five minutes they saw horror.

_Target the emotional responses like so, _said Nirymer after what seemed like a quarter-hour but was really seconds. _Emotions are the dangerous part, do a broad-spectrum emotional dampener. This kind of treatment will eventually be corrected by the brain, but it will last for years under normal circumstances. Reinforcement just helps. _

A minute or so of real time in, Nirymer's mental projection was fiddling with the projection-wires of the projection-theater. _This is actively degrading the memory. Essentially speeding up the natural process of forgetting. I'll show you how to delete eidetic memories later. _

_Is it safe?_ asked Stadi.

_It requires finesse,_ sent Nirymer distractedly, focusing on his work. _If you'll look, you'll see that the images are getting blurry and choppy. That is intentional. If this works, the memory will be too vague for the patient to dwell on it; the more vivid the memory, the more the patient relives her trauma. Vicious circle. _

What seemed like almost three hours in, Nirymer's projection sprouted an oversized, ethereal fire extinguisher and began spraying the area. _General dampener of negative emotions. We've already sabotaged the emotional response and cracked into the memory itself, now we just dampen the negative emotions, keep her trauma numb for a while. This should keep her in good mental shape for about three days even if the previous steps failed. The purpose is to tip the balance in favor of positive emotions; joy, comfort, belonging, security. Do you feel the principle? _

_Yes, sir_, sent Stadi.

_Then try it yourself. _

Both women's projections materialized emotional fire extinguishers of their own, and doused the vicinity.

_That's good,_ sent the Lethean. _Not too much, she'll be too numb if you go too far. There, yeah, focus low. In the projection world, negative emotions cluster at the "bottom". _

_Is this procedure correct? _ sent T'pai.

_Yeah, looks good,_ said the Lethean. _Actually… I think this is good. Not much more we can do here right now—you have to let the emotions settle, the brain and personality acclimatize. You two ready? _

_Yes, sir,_ sent the women.

_All right, out in three… two… one_…

Strobe. Blur. White. And they were themselves again, blinking at the return to normalcy, sore muscles twinging as they began to move again.

"Aaaand, breaking the link," said Nirymer, and Stadi was just Stadi again. "All right, darling. Are you feeling alright?"

Ora allowed him to help her up. "I… yes. I think I am, sir…"

"Hey, don't 'sir' me. I'm your therapist, not your attending. Let me see that smile."

The woman smiled, somewhat weakly.

"That's beautiful. You're doing so well! I'm proud of you, such a good patient."

"Thank you, sir."

"Ah-ah, no 'sir', please. To you, I'm just Nirymer. Or Mister Nirymer if you like. Now, if memory serves, you are off to the gardening holoprogram with miss Kes, now, aren't you?"

The woman nodded.

"All right, off you go, then." The man led the woman over to the door as T'pai and Stadi stretched out kinks in their necks. "Ensign, thank you. Please escort this woman to the holodeck where they're practicing hydroponics techniques."

"Well," said Stadi to T'pai. "That was informative."

"It was quite illuminating, yes," T'pai agreed. "I must return to Sickbay. I have records to do with the Lieutenant whose name is to be determined."

"And I should get back to the bridge. We'll talk later?"

"That would be agreeable."

* * *

><p>"Sir?" asked Daran Taril hesitantly from the door to Gul Evek's ready room, the black-haired Romulan woman lurking behind.<p>

"Come in," said the Gul, closing the picture of his wife and children and shutting his desktop PADD. "What do you need?"

"It's for myself and t'Aimne, sir. We want to join the _Vetar_'s crew full time, if that's possible."

"Ah. I'd been hoping that you'd say that. Standard policy is somewhat divided on this matter, but frankly, we're seventy thousand-odd light years away from standard policy. I would like to know, though, why you are interested in joining the Guard full-time."

"Purpose, _leih_," said t'Aimne. "We need a purpose."

"And this ship has it," said Taril. "I was a zero when you found me, sir; just me and my wife on a freighter. If you hadn't shown up with the _Vetar_ those Orion slavers would've killed us and nobody would've cared."

"Perhaps," said Evek mildly. "To be fair, though, I am certain that the slaves whom you rescued were quite happy that you took offense to the Orions' deeds, liberated their 'cargo', reneged on your smuggling deal and made a run for it at warp 8."

"Fat lot of good that would've done them if you hadn't blown the Orions out of space, sir. But my point is...before this job, I was nobody. Just living job-to-job, smuggling contraband, trying to stay out of the way of patrols. Now? I've got a purpose, a reason to exist. I have a wife back home to get back to, hundreds of people who depend on me, and a commander whom I do _not_ want to disappoint. It's… it's a good feeling, sir."

"I can understand that," said Evek. "What about you, t'Aimne?"

"Something similar," said the Romulan. "On the _Vermithrax_ I had a purpose, a reason to live. When the monster took us and left us for the Kazon… I lost it. I tried to motivate myself to be strong for the other prisoners, but… the Kazon are idiots and incompetents, but they are brutal. Horrible. I… I'm ashamed to say that before you showed up and killed them… I'd given up. You and your crew, and Captain Stadi and hers, you gave me a reason to care again."

"I see," said Evek. "Well, report to your stations and I'm sure that my successor can justify it all to Command in fifty years. Man your posts to the last, for Cardassia."

* * *

><p>"What's this about, Ayala?" asked Torres as the Maquis got settled on the holodeck.<p>

"Are we going to try to take the ship?" asked Suder.

"Fuck no!" snapped Ayala. "We're damn lucky that Stadi and Tuvok didn't just hand us over to the Cardassians and call it a day. They probably would've gotten away with it, too, given the situation. No, I'm here to tell all of you to be on your best behavior, period."

"And why the hell should we do that?" snarled Torres.

"Because, let's face it, that bomb that we set on Tara IV? Killed children. Doesn't matter that they were Cardassian—they didn't participate in the Occupation, they didn't kill Bajoran rebels or oppress people. You and Seska and Suder and me, we did something awful, and we need to accept our punishment."

"You're saying this, Ayala? You, who hate Cardassians more than anything?" asked Seska, one of the Bajorans.

"Yeah. I'm saying this. I'm saying that the governor of Tara IV was not worth fifteen innocent lives. I'm saying that because Torres and Suder and I fucked up, people who never oppressed or killed a Bajoran in their lives got killed painfully. I deserve fifteen years in medium-security for that, minimum. Hell, we've all killed people who may or may not have really been as evil as we told ourselves. Suder… that reminds me, Suder, I made you an appointment with Evek's counselor for tomorrow morning at 1000 hours, and I want you to keep it. Anyway. My point is, Gul Evek had a legitimate grievance against us, and could very easily have fought to punish us the Cardassian way. But he didn't; he let us get Federation justice, which for all the Federation's slow and witless about defending people like the Bajorans is a lot better than Cardassian justice. So I'm telling you here and now, we're damn lucky to work off this sentence, and whether you agree with me that we deserve it or not, I will _personally_ come down like a ton of bricks on anyone who jeopardizes our position. Am I clear?"

Seska, Jonas, and Torres did not respond at first, so Ayala eyeballed them until even Torres dropped her head and muttered "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, back to work, and remember to take advantage of some of the benefits of being nominally-Starfleet. Like holodecks and replicators that have more than three patterns on them."

* * *

><p><em>Personal log, Gul Aman Evek, Cardassian Fourth Order. <em>

_Lycoris. _

_Well. This has certainly been a day to remember. _

_We have a plan for our personnel and supply problems. Captain Stadi and Commander Tuvok have been most efficient. With luck, we will only need to refuel and resupply half as often as we would under standard procedures. _

_We encountered a species called the Ha'ni, a highly advanced reptilian race from another universe. They were quite pleasant, much like the Federation although considerably more efficient. We were accosted by the Kazon, who managed about two sentences before being blown out of space. We parted with the Ha'ni on good terms, and the leader of their exploration mission stated that they would return within two or three decades. We have given them the coordinates of Earth and Cardassia Prime in case they wish to start a longer-term diplomatic relationship at that time. _

_Neelix has explained the makeup and approximate space of the Kazon. Apparently they are a tribal culture, divided into several feuding sects. Honestly, I tuned him out about halfway through, because they all sounded the same—vicious, incompetent pirates. Except for the Kazon-Nistrim, who are apparently vicious even for Kazon and occasionally show signs of intelligence such as using sensor masking. We will have to watch out for them. _

_Daran Taril has officially joined the Guard. Yes, I know, political hassle… but I am fifty years from regulations, and he's a good, capable man. And while I have yet to see the Romulan, t'Aimne, in action, I suspect granting her a field commission will pay dividends as well. If Jagul Macet or Jagul Broca wants to pick a fight about that, you know where I will tell them to stuff it. Cardassia needs talent, not petty racism. _

_I hope that our children are healthy, and are serving Cardassia well. _

_I love you. _

_Your husband,_

_Aman Evek. _

* * *

><p><em>Captain's log, stardate 48328.54. We have repaired the minimal damage sustained during the battle with the Kazon, and parted on amicable terms with the Ha'ni. We have a decent set of star charts, which should help us evade the more dangerous anomalies and find beneficial ones to speed our journey home. Ballard has teams working with the Cardassians to recreate the Ha'ni technology from the scans we got, but it's going very slowly at best. <em>

_My training in telepathic therapy and combat is going quite well. Neelix and Kes have, with assistance from the engineering crew, set up hydroponics bays and mess halls on both _Voyager _and _Vetar_. We are working on training what few crew we can spare, and the dozen or so women who we rescued from the Kazon, to work as cooks and farmers. Neelix says that with four helpers he can keep _Voyager'_s crew fed three meals a day as long as we use a limited buffet style instead of made-to-order food. And the shuttles have us loaded up with deuterium and replicator mass, so—_

_[recording paused due to inactivity]_

_That was Mr. Tuvok. We have a course that will get us to a small agri-colony where we can pick up additional supplies, with a minimum of potential hassle. Easy jaunt, six days at warp 8. We break orbit in two hours._

_End log. _


	3. The Mysterious Case of Neelix's Lungs

**The Mysterious Case of Neelix's Lungs**

**Episode 1x3: "The Mysterious Case of Neelix's Lungs", by starswordc & worffan101**

**Rewrite of "Phage" (VOY 1x04)**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note, by StarSwordC:<strong>

I always felt the Vidiians were criminally underused compared to the Kazon. Here we have a perfect lens through which to look at a species on the verge of extinction, the lengths people will go to in their desperation to survive. It's much like how _Deep Space Nine_ showed us what the Federation is willing to do when pressed, no matter their pretensions to being "more highly evolved". It's why I voted for the Vidiians over the Krenim when _Star Trek Online_ had a poll going over which Delta Quadrant race we wanted to see in _Delta Rising_. (On a side note, I suspect the Krenim won that poll because people wanted a Krenim lockbox. Oh well.)

And yet Berman and Braga decided that a race that tried to be threatening but inevitably came off as the _Star Trek_ equivalent of the Three Stooges were more compelling as villains, and the Vidiians were reduced to a one-note caricature and then had their arc dropped and wrapped up offscreen. We aim to fix that.

* * *

><p>Cast list:<p>

**Main and recurring cast: **

Gul Aman Evek, CO CDS _Vetar_: Richard Poe.

Acting Dalin Hogue Marritza, tactical officer, CDS _Vetar_: Eric Etebari

Gil Kalar, operations officer CDS _Vetar_: Sean Maher.

Glinn Emil Tarak, security chief CDS _Vetar_: Nathan Fillion.

Glinn Nirymer, CMO and chief therapist CDS _Vetar_: Murphy Guyer.

Gil Daran Taril, helmsman CDS _Vetar_: Alan Tudyk.

Glinn Alina i'Kevratas t'Aimne, sensor officer CDS _Vetar_: Morena Baccarin.

Gil Kerani Ocett: Gina Torres.

Captain Veronica Stadi, CO USS _Voyager_: Alicia Coppola.

Commander Tuvok, XO USS _Voyager_: Tim Russ.

Lieutenant Harry Kim, operations chief USS _Voyager_: Garret Wang.

Lieutenant Commander T'Pai, CMO USS _Voyager_: Aly Michalka

Lieutenant Lyndsay Ballard, ChENG USS _Voyager_: Kim Rhodes.

Lieutenant Kepa Ayala, security chief USS _Voyager_: Tarik Ergin.

Lieutenant Emergency Medical Hologram, deputy CMO USS _Voyager_: Robert Picardo.

Lieutenant JG B'Elanna Torres, deputy ChENG USS _Voyager_: Roxanne Dawson

Ensign Tom Paris, helmsman/tactical officer USS _Voyager_: Robert Duncan McNeill.

Crewman Celes Tal, sensor chief, USS _Voyager_: Zoe McLellan.

Ensign Samantha Wildman, chief xenobiologist USS _Voyager_: Nancy Hower.

Chief Warp Core Engineer Seska Harani, reactor chief, USS _Voyager_: Martha Hackett

Security Officer, Second Class Ivrahanla sh'Phohlhi, noncom, USS _Voyager_: Vanessa Angel

Security Officer, Third Class Peter Durst, noncom, USS _Voyager_: Brian Markinson

Neelix: Ethan Phillips.

Kes: Jennifer Lien.

**Guest-starring: **

Dereth: Cully Fredricksen.

Motura: Stephen B. Rappaport.

* * *

><p><em>Deep Space, Delta Quadrant<br>__Federation Stardate 48532.4 (13 May 2371 Earth Standard)  
><em>_Cardassian Unified Date 4701.7.15/44_

"Alright," said Neelix cheerfully, loading the last dishes of Terran-style macaroni and cheese pasta into the makeshift buffet bar. "Dig in!"

"Wait!" said Lieutenant Kim, holding up his plate and utensils before the lunchtime scrum could begin. "Let's first remember who made us this! Macaroni, Talaxian-style salad, and what should be a good approximation of Tellarite stew—let's have a big round of applause for our chef, our hydroponics chief, and their helpers!"

The men and women behind Harry cheered, clapping and cheering as Neelix modestly thanked them and his helpers, four women who had been rescued from the Kazon on Ocampa Prime, smiled cautiously.

"Let's eat!" shouted Paris, and who was Harry to deny that charming voice?

"Let's! Here, Wildman, you go first, you look starving."

"Thanks, Lieutenant," said the xenobiologist gratefully, taking Harry's spot in front of the pasta. "I've been starving the last couple of days, and I haven't been able to eat my normal dinner; everything's just tasted odd, and I can't really replicate different things with the replicators on rationing."

"Sorry to hear that. Stew?"

"Oh, no, I can't—it smells… I can't."

"Alright, then, to each his or her own. Hey, more for the rest of us, right?"

Wildman laughed at that, loading her plate with a massive amount of pasta and very little salad.

"Morning, Lieutenant," said Ayala politely, taking Harry's just-vacated spot at the stew. "Or afternoon, really."

"Afternoon, Ayala. Call me Harry."

"Harry, then. Damn, this stew looks nice and chunky—just the way I like it."

"Wildman seemed to think it smelled funny."

"Really?" The big man lifted his bowl to his chin and smelled it. "Seems fine to me. A bit spicy, maybe."

"Yeah. She mentioned this morning that she was going to sickbay later for nausea."

"Damn, that's no fun," said Ayala as they walked over to a table. "How's that pasta?"

Harry took a bite and chewed slowly. "S'good. Bit spicy."

"Spicy?" chuckled Ayala. "Well, let's try the stew."

He took a sip, and his eyes bulged out.

"Ayala? Are you—"

"HOT!" Ayala screamed, grabbing his glass of water and draining it in one giant gulp. "Damn, there's a lot of spice in there!"

"Is there a problem?" said Neelix, hurrying up with a worried expression.

"Uh, yeah," said Harry, as Ayala rushed off to refill his glass. "There's just a bit too much spice in the stew for Ayala, apparently."

"Ah," said Neelix. "Thank you; I suppose that Humans must not like their spices?"

Harry shook his head. "I grew up on this—my family's originally from Korea and Grandma's Vietnamese." Neelix looked at him uncomprehendingly and Harry mentally kicked himself and explained, "Regions on my homeworld's eastern continent. Anyway, it might be a bit much for the other humans aboard, not to mention the Andorians and Vulcanoids."

"Good to know," said Neelix. "Attention, everyone! Um, my apologies, but the stew seems to be a little overly spicy. I'll cut some of the spice out of the recipe for later, but for now I must advise you to get something else to eat if you have sensitive taste buds. I hope that this isn't too inconvenient, and that you enjoy the rest of your meals!"

* * *

><p>"Scans are back, sir," said Crewman Celes. "We are detecting what appear to be dilithium deposits on a nearby planetoid."<p>

"Good," said Stadi. "We can get some surplus drive crystals. How far away is it?"

"Three hours at warp 8."

"Good, right in between breakfast and lunch. Stadi to Evek. We have detected a dilithium signature on a nearby planetoid. Sending you the coordinates now."

"Evek here, Stadi. It looks promising to me; Taril, set a course."

"Course laid in, sir," said Paris from the helm station.

"Let's go," said Stadi.

* * *

><p>"It's fine, Neelix," said Ayala with a smile. "It's fine food, just spicy."<p>

"I'm so sorry," worried Neelix. "I hate to serve subpar food. Are you sure that you don't need me to make you something quickly?"

"Nah, it's fine. I don't mind spice that much, I just like a little warning," chuckled the security chief, cleaning his plate and sucking down a hefty glass of replicated milk to dull the capsaicin.

"I see," said Neelix, somewhat reencouraged. "Well, if you have any complaints, please, do not hesitate to bring them to me."

"Needs a bit more salt," Seska Harani, a dark blonde Bajoran from Ayala's old crew, now the reactor chief, said of the pasta.

Neelix jogged over to the counter and got her a shaker. "Want more milk, Mr. Ayala?"

"I'm good, thanks," said Ayala with a smile. His combadge chimed. "Hang on—Ayala here."

"This is Captain Stadi. We have detected a dilithium signature on a nearby planetoid. We're heading there to pick up some spare drive crystals; at warp 8, we should arrive in three hours."

"Yes, sir. I'll have a team ready to help."

"Something wrong?" asked Harry, finishing off his macaroni.

"Eh," grimaced Ayala. "It's just a pain since none of my men have training in mining; we normally just steal stuff from Cardassian ships, and Starfleet has starbases to refuel. Hey, Neelix! You know anything about dilithium mining?"

"Just the basics," shouted the Talaxian across the mess hall. "I can't run anything more complicated than a one-man laser drill. Spent two years in a Haakonian internment camp for smuggling before I went straight. What do you need?"

"Are you free in three hours for about… an hour? Maybe a little more?"

"Um…" said Neelix. "It'll be close, time-wise. I can shake up the menu and make something with replicated greens—a salad or something, maybe even a sandwich dish."

"Right, we'll try to keep it short; it's just we're arriving at a planetoid in three hours to mine some dilithium for spare drive crystals. If you could help us with the laser drills…"

"Of course!" smiled the Talaxian. "I'm always happy to help."

* * *

><p>Lieutenant Emergency Medical Hologram's AI program was a quite pleasant and caring person, despite his prickly personality. And, like any good doctor, he always put his patients first.<p>

"Hormone levels are slightly abnormal," he said, his photons-and-forcefields avatar holding a medical tricorder. "With your permission, Ensign, I will perform a full scan."

"Yes, please," said Ensign Wildman, who still looked a little queasy.

"Excellent. Just sit here on the biobed, please."

"Where is Doctor T'pai, anway?"

"Training session. She's learning telepathic therapy. Well… well, well, well!"

"What?" asked Wildman, somewhat concerned.

"Congratulations," said Lieutenant EMH. "You're pregnant, Ensign. Looks like a perfectly normal embryo so far. Lie down, please."

"I'm _what_?" asked Wildman, lying down. The doctor closed the biobed's hinged sides and tapped at its console.

"Pregnant," said the hologram tersely. "Looks like… Human/Ktarian hybrid."

"Yeah, that'll be my husband Greskrendtregk. Damn. 70,000 light-years from home and pregnant."

The doctor ignored his patient's complaints. "I am not familiar with the developments of such hybrids, but given Ktarian biology I would expect relatively slow development. Seems stable and healthy. Cranial anatomy is unusual but not problematic. I want you to come back in two weeks for a follow-up, and to avoid being hit in the abdomen."

"Um…" said Ensign Wildman, who was not reassured by the hologram's matter-of-fact delivery.

"I will prescribe some prenatal vitamins, and ensure that you do not need to use your replicator rations to procure them. I also have some recommended dietary data on file…"

The door to Sickbay hissed open, and ChENG Ballard hauled Ensign Paris through.

"Doc!" shouted Ballard. "This numbskull tried to hit on my second and she broke his nose!"

"Over here!" snapped Lieutenant EMH, prepping a biobed and sending a command to the Sickbay replicators for an analgesic and an anesthetic.

"Beautiful," muttered Paris, his dopey expression only enhanced by the pancake in place of his nose. "God-damn beautiful. Ow! That hurts!"

"Yeah, should've thought of that before you told her she had nice tits, jackass," said Ballard without a trace of sympathy as the EMH swatted at Paris's hands.

"Calm down, you fool!" complained the EMH, trying to hold the Ensign still so that he could work on fixing the fractured nasal bone. "Ballard, can you stop him from interfering?"

"Want me to stun him, sir?" Paris' eyes widened.

"I think that to prevent re-injury, he should remain conscious during this operation. But if he continues to struggle, I would not be averse to a judicious use of a phaser." The EMH jammed a hypospray into Paris' jugular.

"Darn,"said Ballard, grabbing Paris's hands and pinning them to his chest.

"What the hell happened?" Wildman asked, sitting up.

"Asshole was off-duty, hanging around the lounge trying to pick up women. Torres told him to beat it unless he wanted to get a Klingon woman to the face. He told her that'd be pretty fun, et cetera. Took three of us to pull her back, and she still broke his nose and maybe even a rib."

"Yes, one of his ribs has a hairline fracture," said Lieutenant EMH with a certain degree of smugness. "Honestly, pilots… they never care about their health! Worse than captains, even!"

"I think I'm in love," Paris murmured to no one in particular.

* * *

><p>"… Aaaaaaaand break," said Nirymer. Stadi groaned as she stood and stretched.<p>

"That was interesting," she remarked as T'pai stood alongside her. "I'm glad we got that in before reaching this planet."

"Indeed, it was most illuminating," said T'pai calmly.

"Okay, post-mortem," said Nirymer, trotting back from the door. "Stadi, you're still keeping your mind rather closed-off. Now, we all have bits that we like to keep private, but I want you to try to open it up a little more. T'pai, your control is good, but you're falling into the classic Surakian trap at times; emotions must sometimes be worked through, not suppressed. Now, that was a perfectly decent stab at a basic dampening by both of you. For the next exercise I want—"

"All hands, all hands, this is Gul Evek," the intercom interrupted. "Assume combat readiness. We will be exiting warp at our target site in five minutes. Dalin Marritza to CIC. Evek out."

"Hold that thought," Stadi said with a smile.

Nirymer gave her what looked like it was supposed to be a long-suffering grimace, although the Lethean's tusks sort of ruined the effect. "We'll take it up tomorrow."

* * *

><p>"Establishing standard orbit, Captain," Paris reported from the conn, his hands flying across the board. Stadi wondered why his nose was so red.<p>

"Beginning detail scan," Celes added from sensors. "All right, uh… Huh, that's weird. Decent-size cavern in the middle of a dilithium deposit, coordinates 55 by 107, 300 meters below the surface. Also reading a breathable oxy-nitro atmosphere, though it's little thin."

"Ayala, is your team ready?" Tuvok asked.

"Yes, sir," the security chief answered from the transporter room. "Evek's security man said that he's sending Gil Ocett and her squad in case we need more hands. Neelix is going to help us with the drills, since he has some mining experience."

"Good. You may proceed. Tuvok out."

* * *

><p>"Alright," said Ayala. "Now that we've got these laser drills working, split up. Wherever your tricorder detects a dilithium signature, get it out. We're going to need a lot of spare drive crystals for this little trip."<p>

"I'll take Neelix, Katar, and Hartman down this passage," said Ocett. "You going to be okay with those two, Ayala?"

"Yeah, we can cover enough ground. Alright, people, try to stay in sight of each other; scans showed no native wildlife, but accidents happen."

"More to the point, _something's_ gotta be generating this atmosphere," Petty Officer al-Jabiri added, adjusting the sight on his phaser rifle for the umpteenth time.

"Yeah, that too. If you find out what's made this place habitable… try not to shoot it," said Ayala. "If it's a sentient, don't attack unless it does. And if it's a machine left here alone, call it in, and definitely don't touch it or damage it. I was on a station once when they turned off the atmo by mistake. Almost everyone lived, but those were _not_ a fun six hours. The numb-nuts responsible never worked again, either. Oh, and everyone double-check your emergency breathers, too."

"Now that you've sucked all the fun out of our sort-of shore leave…" chuckled Ocett. "Alright, campers, let's get moving!"

* * *

><p>"<em>Rekkhai<em>," reported Alina t'Aimne from the _Vetar_'s sensor station. "I'm getting an unusual energy signature. Celes on _Voyager_ says she's getting it as well."

"Show me," ordered Gul Evek, coming over to the Romulan's console.

"Here, sir. Looks like some tau-neutrino emissions… single-point source, sir. Hard to pin down the exact location but it looks like there's something there."

"Interesting. That could mean some form of sensor masking."

"Maybe the Kazon stole some actual functioning brains," Hogue Marritza deadpanned from the gunnery station.

"Perhaps," said Evek as t'Aimne covered a bark of laughter with a hacking cough. "Taril, take us in towards those neutrino emissions, nice and easy."

"Yes, my Gul," Taril said as he eased the _Vetar_ towards the emissions at one-quarter impulse.

"Emission source is moving!" t'Aimne reported. "I still can't pin down its exact location but it looks to be moving around half impulse…"

"A cloaked ship," surmised Evek. "Taril, notify _Voyager_ and sound general quarters. We may have a problem…"

"Stadi to Evek!"

"Evek here, what is it?"

"We just beamed back the mining team! Something tried to kill Neelix, he's badly injured from what Ayala said."

"Evek to Ocett! What happened?"

"Something stole his lungs, my Gul! I'm in _Voyager_'s infirmary right now, he can't breathe!"

"Sorry, Ocett," Marritza sent disbelievingly, "I think your transmission came through garbled. I heard 'something stole Neelix's lungs'."

"Confirm, sir! Something _transported_ his lungs right out of his body!"

* * *

><p>Precisely one minute previously, Neelix had been scouting the cave network on the planetoid with Ocett's team, when he had seen a short side-passage.<p>

"Sir, there's a bit of a cave here. I'll check it out, no need to wait."

"Good man," said Ocett. "Hartman, I want you to stay here and check the ceiling while Katar and I scout ahead.

"Yessir," said Hartman as the Cardassians moved off.

Neelix moved in to the little cavern/short passage. Odd—it looked almost artificial, despite the rock formations and stalactites.

Neelix shrugged off his suspicions. It was just a barren planetoid, after all, and not claimed by any species he knew of. The cave showed up as empty of dilithium deposits to his tricorder, so he turned to leave…

and then suddenly he couldn't breathe; he tried to gasp, to suck in a breath, but all he got was a horrible, wet, _burning_ gurgle as blood and interstitial fluid rushed up through his trachea.

Neelix caught a faint glimpse of _somebody_ rounding the corner in front of him as he collapsed half in and half out of the main passageway, his tricorder clattering on the ground. Hartman spun, then cursed and slapped his combadge.

"Crewman Hartman to _Voyager_, medical emergency! Neelix has been injured! Requesting emergency beamout!"

* * *

><p>"Talk to me, Lieutenant," said Lieutenant Commander T'pai, yanking down the blouse of her scrubs.<p>

"Commander," said the EMH. "Mr. Neelix appears to have had his lungs removed via means that I cannot identify. I have him on a blood-gas infuser, and am programming a basic set of cybernetic lungs into the replicator." He panned a tricorder over the Talaxian and snatched a hypospray off a shelf. "40 cc's of tri-ox compound!" he barked to the drug dispenser.

"Good. We will install the artificial lungs, and then set up a collagen matrix to build a new live pair from Neelix's stem cells."

"Standard procedure, understood," said the EMH with a sharp nod.

"NEELIX!" screamed Kes, bursting through the doorway. "I heard you were hurt, I came as soon as I—Oh, no!"

"Stay back," said Ocett gently, grabbing the Ocampa woman and pulling her back as gently but firmly as she could. She felt Kes stiffen, and relaxed her arms. "Just stay back and let the doctors work. Federation medical science is the best in the galaxy. Neelix will be fine." _I hope_, she added to herself, but she didn't say it aloud.

"Get me a morphine drip and general anesthesia, now," snapped T'pai, calm and collected as ever.

"On it," said Lieutenant EMH, his AI replicating an IV and a bag of morphine solution.

"What happened to him?" asked Kes in horror.

"Some vole-fucker transported his _lungs_ right out of his body," hissed Ocett. "They're going to implant an artificial pair, and then replace them with a pair grown from his stem cells in a couple of months."

"Will he die?"

"It remains a distinct but highly unlikely possibility," said T'pai, checking a laser scalpel quickly. "Gil, please remove the bystanders from Sickbay. Hartman and Kes may watch from the medical office if they wish to do so."

"Yessir. Come on, let's minimize the distractions they have to deal with. Computer, seal biohazard doors behind us."

"Reading v-fib!" snapped the EMH as Ocett pulled the Human and Ocampa out of the operating theatre; the doors slid shut and clicked locked behind them. "He's going into cardiac arrest! Hold the surgery, sir, we need to restart his heart."

"Proceed," said T'pai, stepping back immediately. The EMH grabbed two defibrillator leads from the underside of the biobed.

"Two! One! Mark!" He pressed the paddles to the comatose Talaxian's chest, and electricity hissed. "V-fib's still there… two, one, mark!"

Electricity arced again.

"Normal heartbeat restored."

"Excellent," said T'pai. "Are the artificial lungs prepared?"

"Here, sir." The EMH held up a rather complicated set of electronic lungs.

"Good. Opening the chest cavity."

T'pai activated her laser scalpel, cutting into the dying man's chest. "Suction." The EMH dipped a vacuum wand into the mess of liquid while T'pai carefully removed several segments of Neelix's ribs and placed them on a sterile tray.

"No signs of trauma; patient's lungs have been removed without a trace. Trachea shows a clean cut. Impossibly clean, in fact: I suspect some form of transporter technology. Viscera have moved to fill the space. Implant."

"Here."

T'pai carefully held the more important organs off to the sides of Neelix's chest cavity, then slid the artificial lungs in, followed rapidly by a power cell. "Power supply charged."

"All systems reading green, sir."

"Grafting implant to trachea. Lieutenant, hook up the pulmonary vessels to the lungs and activate the cellular stimulators, now."

"Yessir," said Lieutenant EMH. "Tracheal graft reading green."

T'pai faintly heard the sickbay's outer door slide open behind the biohazard seal. "Activating startup cycle in five, four, three, two, one, mark."

"Initial cycle has activated. Sensors reading gas transfer rates in the green."

"Synch with the patient's neural net."

"Synching now… systems reading green… green… We are clear! The device is synched with the neural net, adjusting the stimulation to pump some extra oxygen in—"

"That can be done remotely. Ribs."

"Here, sir," said Lieutenant EMH, passing the ribs over one by one. T'pai sealed them in place with bone-knitters and started closing the incision from top to bottom.

"Prep the biobed for monitoring. Close the hinges when I've sealed the incision."

"Yes, sir."

T'pai ran a dermal regenerator over the last layer of skin over the wound, having finished the muscle and lower skin layers. "Close the biobed and program it to monitor for brain damage and repair the muscular fascia while the patient is in the coma. Time elapsed?"

"Fifteen minutes, sir. Well done."

She walked away from the biobed and stripped her gloves, coat, and mask, dropping them in a recycler. "Captain," she said, greeting Stadi, who stood just inside the doors.

"Commander. Is our guide stable?"

"Yes, for now. We will replace the implant with lungs grown from his stem cells at a later date."

"Good. Thank you, T'pai, I knew I could count on you."

"What was it that removed Neelix's lungs? I have never encountered technology like that before."

"No idea, but Evek found a cloaked ship in orbit. They made a run for it less than five minutes after Neelix was attacked. _Vetar_ is pursuing now, and I have security teams sweeping the cave system."

"Ayala to Captain Stadi," crackled through the Betazoid's combadge.

"Stadi here."

"Sir, you're going to want to come down here. We found a cave. There's some equipment here and what looks like an alien medical lab."

"On my way." Stadi stormed out of sickbay, headed for the ship's armory.

* * *

><p>"Marritza, distance to target," Evek requested.<p>

"Five astronomical units and closing," the tactical officer answered. "Overhaul in four minutes, twenty seconds. T'Aimne, any luck penetrating their cloak?"

"_Ie, rekkhai._ It's much cruder than we use in the _Galae s'Shiar Rihan_. Roughly equivalent to what we had a century ago. I've got a good lock on her warp drive and a rough idea of her capabilities. Heavy frigate mass at best by our standards, roughly the equivalent of an _Amarcan_-class warbird in terms of power."

Evek gave her a look. "Not familiar to me."

"Sorry, possibly before your time. Um, maybe a _Steamrunner_-class Federation starship?"

"Ah. That one I know. Larger than a frigate but not a proper cruiser, either. Marritza, prepare disruptors, strike to disable shields, weapons, and engines. Evek to Tarak!"

"Tarak here, my Gul."

"Get a squad to the transporter room, you'll probably be needed for boarding action."

"Yessir, on my way."

"My Gul," the gil at communications announced, "message from _Voyager_."

"Onscreen." The dark-haired Betazoid captain appeared on the screen, black eyes glistening with anger. "What do you have for us, Captain Stadi?"

"Apparently there was never any dilithium on that planetoid to begin with."

"What? But the signals—"

"Allow me to rephrase," Tuvok said from behind Stadi. "The crew of the ship we pursue did have a dilithium-based matter/antimatter reactor on-site, but the bulk of the signals were fake, produced by signal generators. They were likely meant to lure others to the planetoid."

"For what purpose?" Marritza asked.

"We found a large cache of humanoid organs and tissue from over two dozen species in a hidden room off one of the main passages," Stadi growled. "Do the math."

"Be advised, that ship likely has very good electronic countermeasures," Tuvok added. "The technology involved is possibly better than even Starfleet or Romulan designs. Be careful, or they will have you firing at shadows."

"We'll join you when we can," Stadi finished. "We're about half an hour behind you. Do me a favor, Gul Evek?" The Cardassian raised an eyebrow. "Leave some for me. Those bastards nearly killed one of my crew."

"Understood, Captain. I shall endeavor to oblige you. _Vetar_ out."

"Organ traders, _rekkhai_?" t'Aimne suggested. "We know the Delta Quadrant's replicator technology is far behind your government's."

"A good theory," Gil Kalar agreed. "But, uh… Okay, granted, I mostly only know battlefield first aid, but I think it would take a _very_ good understanding of immunology to transplant organs between multiple species."

"So," Evek summarized, "we're dealing with a species with a very advanced knowledge of medicine and electronic warfare, but no replicators—"

"Or nothing medical-grade at least," Kalar interrupted.

Evek acknowledged with a tilt of his head. "—and potentially a couple decades behind us in terms of ship design." He tapped his fingers absently on the arm of his command chair. "Odd combination of traits, wouldn't you say?" There was a muted chorus of agreement from the bridge crew.

"Approaching extreme firing range, sir," Marritza announced. Then, more urgently, "They're dropping cloak! Reading shields coming online!"

"Forward torpedoes. Fire two shots across his bow and give me a hailing channel."

"Firing, fore tubes." A pair of photon torpedoes shrieked out of the dual torpedo tubes on the leading edge of the _Vetar_'s fin, warp sustainer engines kicking in and carrying them across the gap, past the ship. Two momentary stars flashed into existence and were just as quickly quenched by the vacuum.

"Channel open."

"This is Gul Aman Evek of the Cardassian Fourth Order to unidentified starship," he spoke into his microphone. "You are ordered to drop to sublight and prepare to be boarded. Next time we fire for effect."

He waited. "No resp—Wait, possible aspect change in target," Marritza said. "They're changing course, headed for a dwarf planet in the Oort cloud of that blue supergiant."

"Close to disruptor range and target his warp drive. Status on _Voyager_?"

"They're gaining on us but we'll get there first."

The two ships continued their breakneck pursuit, with Marritza calling out the range. "Entering extreme disruptor range."

"Raise forward shields. Lock onto his starboard nacelle with the main spinal mount. Fire in five, four, three, two, one, _now_!"

A golden-yellow stream of particles lanced out from below the CIC, ripping through the _Vetar_'s warp field and jumping the distance to the fleeing ship in an eyeblink. "They barely felt that one, sir," reported Marritza. "Minimal damage to the starboard nacelle. Wait, target is slowing. They're dropping to sublight!"

"Follow them!"

Daran Taril wordlessly crash-translated the _Vetar_ below _c_ and the fish-like starship wheeled in space after its prey, making a beeline for an isolated dwarf planet a couple hundred kilometers wide. Marritza fired again and reported damage to their shields.

"Why aren't they shooting back?"

"I have no idea, sir. Targeting their impulse drive—_Shtel_! They just ducked into a cavern. Shall I pursue?"

"Get after them, Taril."

"Getting after them, sir." The Trill swung the ship into the narrow gap, standing it "up" on one fin to fit through.

"Mind the paint, Gil, and bring the rear shields up. T'Aimne, do you have a sensor lock?"

"No, sir; they've reactivated their cloak and the interior of the asteroid's reflecting everything I try with active scanners."

"'Reflecting'?"

"_Ie_. Looks like whatever it is is bouncing particle and EM scans right back off."

"My Gul!" Marritza shouted. "Reading a serious energy drain in shield control! We'll lose shields in thirty seconds or less!"

"Marritza, I have an idea. Put the shield power to maximum, then open fire with all of the weapons at minimum power in every direction. At that power level and with the shields up, we won't be damaged, but—"

"—we'll be able to pinpoint and target the alien ship! Brilliant, sir!"

"Oldest trick in the book, when you know you've got a cloaked ship trapped but you don't know where. Just light up the immediate vicinity. Ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Fire!"

The disruptors pulsed in every direction, and ray after ray of blazing light reflected back and forth across the asteroid's interior, bouncing off of _Vetar_'s shields to little effect…

And slamming into the cloaked ship, dealing little damage but lighting it up as clear as day on _Vetar_'s sensors.

"Target engines and shields with all disruptors! Open fire!"

Golden lances of light spat from the dorsal gun battery and the spinal mount, hammering into the target. A secondary explosion punched back out of the cloak, which quickly dropped. The enemy vessel came hard about and Marritza fired again as it rocketed over their heads so close he could see the hole in the side of the hull with the naked eye.

"Come about!" Evek ordered. "Get a tractor beam on him!"

"I'm trying, I'm trying! His ECM's too good! I can't get a lock!"

"Taril, by Cardassia, get after him!"

"He's making a run for the entrance!"

Marritza fired again and again. T'Aimne shouted, "Their shields are down to twenty percent—strike that, they're diverting power aft!"

The lights dimmed briefly. "We're losing our shields!" Kalar cried.

And now the enemy ship fired. A blue-white bolt, like controlled lightning, erupted from the target and crashed into the starboard fin. The CIC shook and Kalar announced a hull breach in the crew lounge. "Nobody in there, fortunately! But we've got a malfunction in the main computer! It was some kind of ion cannon meant to take out our electrics!"

"They're approaching the entrance!" t'Aimne called out frantically.

"We're starting to lose engine power!"

Then a splotch of pale gray appeared on the monitor, still staticky from the enemy attack, and orange lances of light smashed into the enemy ship's unprotected bow.

_Voyager_ had arrived at last.

* * *

><p>"Their forward shields are down," Crewman Celes called to Stadi. "Reading two humanoid life-forms aboard!"<p>

"Lock transporters and beam them directly to the brig."

"Transport commencing!" Kim confirmed.

"Paris, get a tractor beam on that ship. Mr. Ayala, prepare a boarding party to go over, make sure there aren't any surprises left."

"Transport complete."

"Kim, Tuvok, grab your weapons. You're with me." She hit the intercom key. "Security team to the brig. Unknown alien hostiles in Number Two."

The comm system chimed. "Captain Stadi, this is Gul Evek. Your timing is impeccable."

"You're welcome. Any casualties?"

"Not this time, fortunately. I'm heading off the bridge to supervise damage control."

"Understood; I'll let you know if I need anything."

A turbolift ride and a trip to the armory later, and they were outside the brig with five heavily armed goldshirts. Ayala even had on a dark gray combat vest he'd found somewhere, with a dozen stun grenades dangling from it. Stadi looked on in bemusement. "Ayala, we're interrogating prisoners, not occupying a planet. Isn't that overkill?"

One of the other goldshirts, Durst, she thought his name was, snorted. "Captain, there's no such thing as 'overkill'."

"Yeah, there's only 'open fire' and 'I need to reload'," Ayala agreed.

Tuvok raised one Vulcan eyebrow, but remained silent. "Clearly you two were Maquis for too long," Stadi remarked. "All right, let's get this over with. Durst, take point. Three, two, one, go." She hit the door panel and they rushed into the room, phasers ready.

"We surrender," said one of the aliens glumly, holding his hands in the air. Both were humanoid, but their flesh… it was mottled, rotted, like a piece of spoiled meat, the eyes bloodshot, the nose and mouth lumpy masses of ruined flesh. The taller one had no ears, gaping, putrescent holes in their places.

"_Madre de Dios_," Ayala breathed. "What the hell are you?"

"I am Motura," the shorter humanoid introduced. "This is my _honatta_ Dereth."

"We are citizens of the Vidiian Sodality," Dereth added.

Stadi hit her combadge. "Stadi to sickbay. Is Neelix awake yet?"

"Yes, Captain," T'pai answered.

"Ask him if he's ever heard of a 'Vidiian Sodality'. They're the guys who stole his lungs."

"Yes, sir," T'pai replied.

"Frisk 'em," Ayala ordered, shaking off his surprise.

Two of the security men moved up and patted them down. "I'm Captain Veronica Stadi, of the United Federation of Planets Starship _Voyager_."

"They were each carrying one of these, sir," Petty Officer sh'Phohlhi said, holding up a blue-black object the size of a phaser pistol.

"Tuvok, what do you make of it?" asked Stadi.

The Vulcan caught the strange implement as the Andorian passed it to him and pointed it at the ground. "I am uncertain," he remarked, scanning it with his tricorder. "It resembles a tricorder, but there appears to be a miniature transporter in the body of the device; these needle-like implements seem to be a targeting system. I believe that these are the controls. It appears to have a computer core in the pommel; I surmise that it is designed to automatically target and beam out organs from a body."

"Yes," said Dereth. "It sends them to a secure lockbox, which we keep on-site; when a Vidiian needs a transplant, we take the box, link it up to a device, and beam the new organ in. It's mostly automatic."

"Monstrous," one of the other petty officers growled.

"You think I wanted to steal organs?" cried Dereth. "Before the Phage claimed me and my family, I was an author on the homeworld! I wrote fantasy novels and children's books! The Phage claimed two of my children, my mother, six of my cousins—every Vidiian could tell you a similar story; we're desperate! It's been two thousand years since the first case, and now more than eighty percent of our population has it, despite our best isolation measures, treatment attempts, and so-called cures. The infected population grows every damn day, and our people are a shadow of what we once were! It's evaded every single attempted cure or treatment that we've thrown at it! It eats organs like acid! We don't _like_ using live people's organs; we try to get recent cadavers, but there just isn't always time—"

"So you value your lives before those of others?" snapped Ayala as the door slid open. Stadi checked over her shoulder; it was T'pai, holding a PADD. Stadi accepted it; it was a set of notes on what Neelix had said about the Vidiian Sodality.

The Vidiian, Dereth, stopped, turned towards Ayala, opened its mouth, shut it, and collapsed backwards onto the holding cell's bench.

"Yes," whispered the Vidiian. "I do. We all do. You hate us for taking organs from live subjects? You think we have no justification? I do it because I've seen people killed, families torn apart, states broken, hell, half the Sodality practically collapsed by the Phage. It adapts to every damn thing we throw at it, it kills half the people it hits slowly and painfully and leaves the rest rotting alive—I will do _anything_ to stop it. Anything at all. And maybe that makes me a monster. Hells, it does, I won't lie to you. I kill people on a weekly, even daily basis. This disease… it's not just a plague, to us, it's like a living thing, a monster… we _hate_ the Phage. _Hate_ it. We've hated the Phage for so long, it's festered in our souls. And you know what? At this point, I don't care anymore. Hells, if you gave me a cure for the phage in exchange for destroying every other civilization in this sector? I and every other Vidiian would exterminate every other species in the damned _quadrant_ in a heartbeat for even a _hope_ for a cure for that damned plague! Do you understand now? DO YOU?"

"No," Stadi admitted with a sigh. "I guess I really can't. This seems like one of those things that you need to experience to understand."

"I've had the Phage for thirteen years," whispered the Vidiian. "Thirteen years of pain. Thirteen years of my body _rotting_ as I live. Thirteen years of watching my friends and family die around me, knowing that one day, that will be me. Thirteen years of unending, merciless _pain_, that is only made worse by the fact that I want to _live_. I'll do _anything_ to be rid of this plague, once and for all."

"I do not believe that we are capable of curing this disease," T'pai broke in suddenly, "but we may be able to help you, in exchange for your species' support."

"What are you—" protested Stadi before Tuvok cut her off with a hand on her shoulder and began to whisper T'pai's idea in her ear.

"The Federation has long been capable of growing artificial organs using stem cells stimulated to grow on collagen matrices," T'pai explained. "Furthermore, we have several cybernetic organ designs, although they are generally of suboptimal efficiency and do not work well with individuals who have chronic diseases. The grown organs, however, should be very useful to your species; simply ensure that a supply of Phage-free stem cells is kept growing at all times, and growing replacement organs will require nothing more than two weeks of nutrient baths and chemical stimulation."

"It's not a cure," Dereth noted. "At best it keeps the disease at bay."

"But it's a start!" Motura countered. "Captain, our people are naturally pacifists. Before the Phage we were respected by all save the Trabe. It's just sheer desperation that's forced us to raid passing ships."

"And, well, speaking frankly, the pickings in this sector have grown thin lately," Dereth added.

"People noticed?" sh'Pholhi wryly observed. Dereth gave a wordless acknowledgment.

"What do you want in exchange?" Motura asked. "Vidiian money is not likely to do you much good outside of our territory, and we have little in the way of trade goods."

"There is little more valuable than information," T'pai said. "It takes great skill to transplant organs from one species to another without risk of rejection. I propose a trade. Your knowledge of immune biology for our knowledge of cloned organs."

"Done," Dereth agreed. "I am a _honatta_. Procuring and altering replacement organs is my profession. I will tell you all I know."

"One more thing," Stadi said, jabbing a finger into Dereth's sternum. "You attacked one of _my_ crew at the start of this, and I gave serious thought to blowing you both out of space for that. Take a message to your people. If I ever encounter your kind again, I will do whatever is necessary to protect my people from this harvesting of yours. Any aggressive actions against this ship or it's crew will be met by the deadliest force. Is that clear?"

"Quite," Dereth said, cowed somewhat.

"We can get you and your companion ship a transponder marker granting safe passage through Vidiian territory," Motura offered, "although I cannot place any guarantees on its effectiveness, and it will take some time to disseminate your techniques throughout the Sodality."

"That will have to do," muttered Stadi. "Right. Ayala, finish up here. I have to go do some personnel reports, and talk to Paris about sexual harassment lawsuits."

* * *

><p>"Are you sure this is a good idea, Captain Stadi?" Gul Evek asked over comms as the Vidiian ship went to warp.<p>

"No, but then I wasn't sure trusting _you_ was a good idea, either. I'm still not sure," the Betazoid added after a moment's consideration.

"Touché," the Cardassian said in an amused tone, smiling. Then he sobered. "By Cardassia, we went through all that to improve our power generation reserves and between the chase and the battle we come out with less than we started with. Our number six crystal will go within six weeks."

"Well, in addition to the medical information Mr. Ayala managed to extort a few new star charts out of the Vidiians," Stadi said. "There's a spacefaring people a few dozen light-years down the road called the Sikarians. Might be able to get some new drive crystals from them."

Evek nodded. "Your security chief's initiative is commendable, Captain. Plot a course."

* * *

><p><em>Personal log, Commander Tuvok, first officer, USS <em>Voyager_. Stardate 48535.72. _

_My beloved T'pel. _

_It would be illogical of me to not admit that I miss you. While barring illness or unusual accident we should both be alive by the time _Voyager _returns to the Alpha Quadrant, I do not wish to be separated from you for longer than is absolutely necessary. Therefore, I have decided to compose this message so that you may receive reassurance that I am indeed alive if we discover some method of sending rapid communications home. _

_I am alive and physically intact. I have assumed the role of First Officer on the _Voyager_, under Captain Veronica Stadi, formerly assigned to conn. She is a promising young officer. We are joined in our journey by Gul Aman Evek, an officer of the Cardassian Fourth Order. He appears to be an ethical man, and has proven himself to be an effective commanding officer. _

_We have made First Contact with five species so far; the Ocampa, a species whose biology has doomed them to imminent extinction, the Kazon, a profoundly unintelligent race of nomadic tribes, the Ha'ni, a reptilian species from a parallel timeline, the Talaxians, represented by a trader named Neelix who has joined us for the journey as a guide, and the Vidiians, a species afflicted by a virulent plague for centuries. Our diplomatic negotiations have been effective with all but the Kazon, who appear to be universally violent and aggressive as well as misogynistic and highly illogical in their conduct and technological level. I am overall satisfied with our progress._

_Please inform our son that I will not be disappointed if he does not perform adequately at archery. If he continues to be concerned with his physical education, please inform him that I myself have never been able to master the lirpa. _

_I hope that your conference was adequately productive. The Council's plan for the Bajoran colony worlds is illogical and risky; you are correct in stating that additional medical supplies are a necessity for colonization in such unstable times. I recommend connecting with Beverly Crusher, on the _Enterprise_, and Adavithra zh'Planahath of the _Shanghai_. Deep Space 9's Doctor Bashir may also be a useful contact considering proximity. Together, you may be able to sway the Council's decision on Starfleet Medical policy. _

_I remain forever yours. _

_Tuvok. _

* * *

><p><em>Permanent documentation file, Marritza, H. Dl., tactical action officer, Cardassian Fourth Order Destroyer <em>Vetar_._

_That was damned embarrassing having to be bailed out by Stadi. I'm running full diagnostics on all systems and I'm having the soldiers that remain to the space warfare division reverse-engineer the damage, find out exactly what those Vidiian mongrels hit us with._

_Mongrels, heh. I need to remember that one. Because they're a conglomeration of—wait, you're a computer; why the _shtel _am I explaining a pun to you? _

_I miss Cardassia. The Mekar Wilderness especially. It's springtime there now, and I can almost smell the kanar flowers. I have to ask Captain Stadi if I can use her holodeck sometime. Though, there's some things you can't duplicate with a holodeck. Too few women on this ship: just Ocett and that Romulan, and Ocett's practically my little sister. Rather typical of my luck—after being passed over for promotion a dozen times in favor of incompetent sons of jaguls and legates, I finally get a position worth mentioning and I've got nobody to celebrate it with. Maybe the Feds are onto something._

_Supposedly there's a reasonably civilized planet coming up and we can get a decent break, some shore leave. We all need it, even Gul Evek, though he'll never let anyone see it._

Shtel. _That was damage control. We'll have to swap out two of the coils on the main forward shield projector—they're crispier than a zabu flambé. Back to work. _

* * *

><p><em>Captain's log, stardate 48535.72. We have released the Vidiians to return to their people. I was conflicted about the decision, but Neelix, the victim of the Vidiians' attack, requested that I be lenient. He said that vengeance only begets vengeance, and that it would be better to help the Vidiians so that they don't need to attack people for their organs in the future. He's an optimistic man; I only hope that time proves him correct. <em>

_Neelix's body has accepted the electronic lungs that T'pai and the EMH implanted. He will have to be careful around EPS conduits and such until the implant is replaced by a lab-grown pair, but he is up and walking again, which is good. T'pai has informed me that she has already extracted stem cells to begin growing the replacement organs, and Neelix has returned to the galley on light duty._

_Lieutenant Ayala has suggested forming a specialized assault unit for future emergencies such as the cavern search, formed from members of ship's complement with advanced surface combat training. He's suggested the name Hazard Team._ _I have given him permission to begin screening candidates, and recommended (at Lieutenant Kim's request) that he take some time to set up hand-to-hand combat training for non-Security personnel. Given the violent nature of the Delta Quadrant that we have seen so far, combat training and physical conditioning may mean the difference between life and death. _

_We plan to reach the Sikarian home system in a little over a month; we should be able to acquire spare drive crystals there. Lieutenant JG Torres requested permission to study some of the tetryon weaponry that we salvaged from the alien array back at Ocampa Prime; she's going to have to work around standard shifts, but if she can do it we might have a few extra tricks up our sleeves by the time we get home._


	4. Eye of the Needle

**The Mysterious Case of Neelix's Lungs**

**Episode 1x4: "Eye of the Needle", by starswordc & worffan101. **

* * *

><p>Cast list:<p>

**Main and recurring cast: **

Gul Aman Evek, CO, CDS _Vetar_: Richard Poe.

Acting Dalin Hogue Marritza, tactical officer, CDS _Vetar_: Eric Etebari

Gil Kalar, operations officer, CDS _Vetar_: Sean Maher.

Glinn Nirymer, CMO and chief therapist, CDS _Vetar_: Murphy Guyer.

Gil Daran Taril, helmsman, CDS _Vetar_: Alan Tudyk.

Glinn Alina i'Kevratas t'Aimne, sensor officer, CDS _Vetar_: Morena Baccarin.

Gil Kerani Ocett: Gina Torres.

Captain Veronica Stadi, CO USS _Voyager_: Alicia Coppola.

Commander Tuvok, XO USS _Voyager_: Tim Russ.

Lieutenant Harry Kim, operations officer, USS _Voyager_: Garret Wang.

Lieutenant Commander T'Pai, CMO USS _Voyager_: Aly Michalka

Lieutenant Lyndsay Ballard, ChENG USS _Voyager_: Kim Rhodes.

Lieutenant Kepa Ayala, security chief, USS _Voyager_: Tarik Ergin.

Lieutenant Emergency Medical Hologram, deputy CMO USS _Voyager_: Robert Picardo.

Lieutenant JG B'Elanna Torres, deputy ChENG USS _Voyager_: Roxanne Dawson

Ensign Tom Paris, helmsman/tactical officer, USS _Voyager_: Robert Duncan McNeill.

Crewman Celes Tal, sensor chief, USS _Voyager_: Zoe McLellan.

Neelix: Ethan Phillips.

Kes: Jennifer Lien.

**Guest-starring: **

Vice Admiral James Leyton, Chief of Starfleet Operations: Robert Foxworth

Fleet Admiral Alynna Nechayev, Commander-in-Chief of the Federation Starfleet: Natalia Nogulich

_Riov_ Doctor Telek R'Mor, Romulan Astrophysical Academy and CO, ch'R _Talvath_: Vaughn Armstrong.

_Khre'Riov_ Velal i'Ra'tleihfi tr'Hrienteh, _Galae s'Shiar Rihan_ headquarters: Stephen Yoakam

_Arrain_ Avasa t'Klau, XO, ch'R _Talvath_: Natalie Martinez

_Khre'Riov_ Satali t'Tyrava, CO, ch'R _Eyiv s'Rea_: Emmanuelle Vaugier

* * *

><p><em>Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco, California<br>__Federation Stardate 48579.4 (31 May 2371 Earth Standard)_

"Damn it!"

Vice Admiral James Leyton, newly-minted Chief of Starfleet Operations, was not normally a man prone to violent outbursts. But the report that one of Starfleet's most advanced new vessels had apparently vanished into thin air was trying his patience.

"So we lost _Equinox_ and _Liberation_ in the Badlands over the past five years, and _nobody_ thought those were important enough to mention? And now we're missing the _Voyager_—damn it, the third-most-advanced vessel in Starfleet, gone without a trace! And the Cardassians are blaming us for the loss of that destroyer, now, too! Could this get any worse, Alynna?"

"Yes," said Fleet Admiral Nechayev without a hint of sarcasm. "You could have Q in here turning the walls into alien slime just to amuse itself."

"God damn it," snarled Leyton again, sinking heavily into his seat. "So now the _Voyager_ and all of the prototypes—the Aeroshuttle, the secondary warp core, the shifting nacelles, the bio-neural gel packs—are so much damn space dust. Or rather, not even space dust, given that we can't even _find_ any space dust. And if I have to listen to that Cardassian bastard complain about his missing destroyer one more time…"

"You must admit that they have reason to be concerned about the _Vetar_'s disappearance," Nechayev said with a raised eyebrow. "Gul Evek was chasing a top Maquis commander, suspected in a bombing on Tara IV that killed hundreds, including civilians. On that note, _we_ should be worried. Aman Evek used to head the DMZ, and he's the only senior Cardassian who didn't leave that insufferable optimist Picard with a bad taste in his mouth. If he's been blown to ashes, that's a blow to _our_ interests, too. The moderate wing of Central Command just lost one of its best." She let out a breath. "At least the Maquis are denying responsibility this time."

"Spare me the politics, Alynna," Leyton grumbled. "I'm no friend of the Cardies, but _Voyager_ had a crew of a hundred and forty-one. Almost all of them had families… God, I hate writing those letters."

"Unfortunately," said Nechayev, sipping tea daintily from a real china cup, "both _Voyager_ and _Vetar_ have been missing without a trace for well over a month now. I know that it's difficult, Jim, but we have to assume the worst."

Leyton sighed. "God damn it. Tell Sisko to call off the search. They've swept the entire region twice by now and we need his resources pointed at the Dominion." He pressed a button on his desk to page his secretary. "Ensign, please issue orders to inform the families of the crew. As of right now, I'm listing USS _Voyager_ NCC-74656 as missing in action and presumed lost with all hands."

* * *

><p><em>Deep Space, Delta Quadrant, 15 light-years from the Sikarian homeworld<br>__Cardassian Unified Date 4701.8.4/20  
><em>_Federation Stardate 48588.94 (4 June 2371 Earth Standard)_

Gul Aman Evek took his seat, sipping some of the root-beverage concoction that Neelix had cooked up. It wasn't half bad; nothing like good kanar, for sure, but it had a tendency to grow on a man. Plus, it wasn't alcoholic, so he could drink it on duty.

"Report," said Evek, coughing a little as some of the bubbles went down the wrong tube.

"All systems normal, sir," said Kalar. "Taril had to, ah, use the necessary."

"Not that we really need a pilot while at warp with nothing on the sensors," t'Aimne chimed in, "We've got nothing but empty space from here to the Sikarian system, sir. Wait, hold that thought. No, never mind. There's a ship heading across our course, but it's reading as a probable bulk freighter, Talaxian make."

"Good," said Evek. "Keep me up to date."

"Yes, sir," said Kalar.

"Evek to Stadi."

"Stadi here. I was just about to hail you, actually."

"Really?" Evek sipped his drink and coughed again. "Damn, this 'root beer' is addictive… What did you need to talk about?"

"It kind of got lost in the whole Vidiian mess, but Ensign Wildman's pregnant."

"… Here, in the Delta Quadrant, fifty years from home?"

"Yes. She wasn't terribly happy about the timing, either."

"Well," said Evek. "At least we have something to celebrate. Convey her my congratulations." Behind him, the turbolift's doors swished open and Daran Taril trotted past with a crisp salute, settling into the helm chair.

"True. You try Neelix's root beer?"

"Yes," said Evek with another cough. "It is… difficult to drink, but the taste is growing on me."

"Yeah, it isn't half bad. Hang on—what do you have, Celes?"

"_Rekkhai!_" reported t'Aimne. "I have a possible wormhole on sensors, two light-months out!"

"Stadi, are you getting what we are?"

"Wormhole about two light-months out?"

"Yes. Taril, take us to that anomaly. We may just have found a way home."

* * *

><p>"Well, where is it?" Stadi asked the Bajoran at the sensor station.<p>

"It should be right in front of us, sir," said Crewman Celes, typing something into her station. "Getting telemetry back on its dimensions, sir. It doesn't seem to be very large."

"Send a probe."

"Yessir." A small, slightly reflective object jetted into space from one of _Voyager_'s torpedo tubes. After a moment, it flashed and vanished.

"There it is. Why is it so hard to see?"

"The probe's sending back telemetry, sir… oh, come on! _Phekk_!"

"What? Is it too small to fit the _Vetar_ through?"

Celes swiveled in her seat, a tempest of emotions on her face. "More like too small to fit a person through. That wormhole's diameter is barely thirty centimeters!"

* * *

><p><em>Sector 1385, <em>Shiar i'Saeihr Rihan _Northwestern Borderlands  
><em>_ch'Rihan Date 05/27/4042 A.S._

"What in the name of Fire?" muttered _Riov_ Telek R'mor, pulling his scout ship up to the wormhole. "Elements. I'm going to have to explain this one at length, aren't I?" He reached for the intercom. "Avasa, get up here," he ordered his XO and one of only two other commissioned officers aboard the 80 meter recon vessel.

The middle-aged Rihan man moved to the sensor station, the scout ship resting in space before the subspace anomaly.

"Well, that's something," he muttered. "Full-on spatial rift. But where does it end?"

His com panel chirped.

"Ah, Water… What is it? This is Doctor Telek R'Mor of the Romulan Astrophysical Academy, aboard ch'R _Talvath_. I'm rather busy, so please don't bother me unless it's important!"

"Doctor R'Mor?" A voice, female, speaking Federation Standard. "This is Captain Veronica Stadi of the Federation Starship _Voyager_. Am I glad to hear an Alpha Quadrant voice!"

"Federation?" snarled R'Mor. "What in the name of Fire are you doing out here? This is Rihan space!"

"Uh… bit complicated, that," said Stadi. "You're observing a wormhole, correct? Well, it seems that we're on the other side. In the Delta Quadrant, as a matter of fact."

R'Mor was dumbfounded. His confusion quickly turned to suspicion. "That is impossible. There are no Starfleet vessels in the Delta Quadrant; you must be nearby. Why you have breached your cloak to address me is another question, but rest assured the Empire will be informed of yet another foolhardy breach of the Treaty of Algeron. _Talvath_ out." He set his main sensor array to scan for any possible sign of a cloaked vessel, and meanwhile… "Ship. Get me a secure channel to _Galae_ headquarters."

"Channel open," the computer confirmed.

"Ch'R _Talvath_, this is _Khre'Riov_ Velal tr'Hrienteh. Do you have something on the _Dok Thak_ raids?"

"Negative, _rekkhai_, I have a cloaked _Lloannen'galae_ warbird somewhere within my search area. Requesting reinforcements."

There was a pause on the other end. "Stand by. Dispatching Warbirds _Haakona_ and _Eyiv s'Rea_. ETA six hours. And we are transmitting an inquiry to the embassy on Terrha regarding a breach of the Treaty of Algeron."

* * *

><p>"Well, that figures," Harry Kim said with some annoyance as the castaways' senior staff met in <em>Voyager<em>'s wardroom. "Our first contact with somebody in the Alpha Quadrant since the Caretaker mess, and he's a _Romulan_."

"There's absolutely no way to simply travel through the wormhole, correct?" Evek asked.

"Not unless you've got a shrink ray aboard somewhere and didn't tell me, sir," Dalin Marritza told his superior.

"Celes says the aperture's barely 30 centimeters wide," Stadi explained over the titter that ran through the room. "We're lucky the microprobe made it as far as it did."

"Damnation," muttered Evek. "Well, we have audio contact, at least. We could get word to Command that we're safe."

"A logical course of action," said Tuvok with a nod. "I will have the crew put together messages for their loved ones."

"_If_ this R'Mor character decides to cooperate," Ayala remarked in a snide tone.

"I could talk to him," t'Aimne suggested. "He might be more likely to trust a fellow Rihanha."

"Possibly," allowed Evek. "But he already knows there's a Federation ship out here, and he thinks that you're invading Romulan space."

"Wait," said Stadi. "Cardassia and the Federation are still sort of not quite at war." Across the table, Tuvok raised an eyebrow at her phrasing but Stadi ignored him. "And the Cardassian Union's on the far side of us from the Romulan Empire. If you called, it might just be strange enough to make the Rommies stop and think."

"Whatever we decide on," said Harry Kim, "we need vidcom up. If we're going to get anything out of this, we're going to need to talk face-to-face, as open as possible."

* * *

><p>Two double-hulled <em>Amarcan<em>-class warbirds erupted from nothingness to starboard of the _Talvath_. "_Riov_ R'Mor, this is _Khre'Riov_ Satali t'Tyrava," the commander of the _Eyiv s'Rea_ sent. "That the wormhole you mentioned in the briefing materials?"

"Indeed. I have ascertained that there is an object enmeshed in the vortex at the halfway point."

"That's nice. What about this cloaked ship?"

"I don't know. I have scanned the area five times in the last six hours and found no emissions or unusual mass signatures at all."

"Understood. We'll fan out. Give me regular reports please."

"_Daie, rekkhai,_" R'Mor acknowledged. The two warbirds yawed in opposite directions and elongated into the distance, a warp microjump that took them six AUs away.

R'Mor leaned back in his command chair as his executive officer handed him a cup of tea. "Going to be a long night, _rekkhai_," _Arrain_ Avasa t'Klau said.

"Indeed, but when is it ever _not_, in this Elements-forsaken part of the galaxy?" He tapped the board in front of him and an intelligence file came up; the computer checked his biometrics, flashed an 'EYES ONLY' alert at him, and opened the file. "Whatever cloaking technology the Federation has developed in the past, we've been able to penetrate. But if they've come up with one this good—"

"I think you should take a break, _rekkhai_. You've been on nine hours straight. Don't worry, I'll keep the scans going, and I'll see if I can clean up this reading on the wormhole."

R'Mor grudgingly nodded and started for the back of the bridge and his cramped quarters. Then he paused at the door. "If they're out there, cloaked, why would they reveal themselves by hailing us?"

"They're _Lloann'nasu_," Avasa said. "Led by Hevammsu. Who knows how their minds work? Just go. I'll patch your quarters into the comm system."

"Mmf," R'Mor grunted noncommittally, and headed out down the narrow corridor.

It seemed like he'd barely laid his head down on his pillow when the intercom chimed. "This is Captain Stadi calling Commander R'Mor. Do you read me, R'Mor?"

R'Mor muted the comm quickly and opened a channel to the _Eyiv s'Rea_. "_Khre'Riov_, this is R'Mor. The _Lloann'nasu _are hailing my ship again."

"On our way, R'Mor. Stall them. Where the _Ariennye_ are they calling from, anyway? We're detecting no mass signatures or emissions, either!"

"Understood." R'Mor reactivated the coms link with the other ship as he rushed back to the bridge. "Out of the chair," he told Avasa. "_Lloannen'galae_ vessel, this is _Riov_ R'Mor. Reading you loud and clear. Be advised that the warbirds you undoubtedly detected earlier are still here and will destroy you if you attack me."

A deeper, male voice said, "Commander R'Mor, were we even interested in doing so, we would have no way to attack you anyway."

"Identify yourself."

"This is Gul Aman Evek of the Cardassian Fourth Order."

R'Mor nearly fell out of his chair. "Come again?"

"We cannot see your warbirds because we are not present at your location. Take a closer look at the wormhole—the far terminus is in the Delta Quadrant."

"_Rekkhai_," Avasa said, "I can confirm."

"Good. The object you are scanning is a probe from USS _Voyager_, our companion in this journey. We're using it as a relay."

"I thought the Federation and Cardassian Union were enemies."

"Our two vessels have called a truce. We are marooned in the Delta Quadrant, after all. It is more in Cardassia's interests for us to work together to get home than the alternative."

R'Mor glared at the readings, still not completely convinced. But, numbers didn't lie. "Let's assume for the moment that I believe you," he cautiously said. "We're working on vidcom, and I presume that you are too. Let me just patch in the _Khre'Riov_."

"Go ahead," the female, Stadi, agreed.

"T'Tyrava here," said the Rihanha commander. "What do you have for me, R'Mor?"

"I've patched you into the hail from the _Lloannen'galae_ vessel. Captain Stadi, _Khre'Riov_ t'Tyrava. _Khre'Riov_, _Riov_ Stadi."

"Vidcom should be coming up now," said Evek. "Stadi's operations man managed to compensate for the bandwidth problems. We're transmitting a compression algorithm on the sub-channel; stand by."

R'Mor received the file and ran it through the _Talvath_'s cyberwarfare suite. Satisfied that there wasn't any malware in it, he patched it into the comm system. The vidcom flickered on, still staticky and distorted, but gradually clearing, and R'Mor saw the oddest collection of aliens that he had seen since an assignment as Federation embassy color guard years before.

"Ah," said Gul Evek, a middle-aged Card'hassinha man in a standard Cardassian Guard uniform. "Greetings. I am Gul Aman Evek, commander of the _Vetar_."

"Captain Veronica Stadi, USS _Voyager_," said a dark-haired Betazoid woman in a strange-looking uniform. "This is Commander Tuvok, my XO, and Alina t'Aimne, sensor chief on the CDS _Vetar_."

"_Shaoi kon, rekkhai,_" said t'Aimne, a Rihan woman in a black Cardassian breastplate with a _Shiar_ emblem embossed over her left breast.

"What in the name of Fire…" snarled t'Tyrava. "TRAITRESS!"

"I am no traitor!" t'Aimne shot back indignantly. "My ship was taken by the same entity that took _Voyager_ and _Vetar_, _rekkhai_. I'm the only survivor. I'm in the _Vetar_'s books as an exchange officer—I just want to get home."

"What ship were you assigned to?" R'Mor demanded.

"Classified, _rekkhai_. We were on a covert mission—I'm probably close to violating the Official Secrets Act by telling you _this_ much!"

"I don't believe you," hissed t'Tyrava.

"_Ariennye_… Fine, but I'm giving you to the Tal'Shiar if they ask. Ch'R _Vermithrax_. Assigned to a deep scouting mission into D'Nneikha space. We didn't even get to our target area before we got snatched."

"Ch'R _Vermithrax_? D'Nneikha? What in the name of Fire are you _talking_ about?"

"You don't know about the Dominion situation?" asked the Betazoid in obvious surprise. Her uniform definitely wasn't _Lloannen'galae_ standard. The Cardassian's uniform was odd around the neck and shoulders, too, now that R'Mor thought about it.

"What the _Ariennye_ is the Dominion?" asked t'Tyrava, mystified.

"I believe," said Tuvok calmly, "that there is a misunderstanding of some sort at work here, and I suspect I know the problem. Subadmiral t'Tyrava, what is the current Federation stardate?"

"Don't you have a clock? I don't have time for _Lloann'mhrahel_ dates," spat the Rihan officer. Tuvok raised an eyebrow. The woman endured it for a full ten seconds of increasing squirming before sighing.

"But I do know Earth Standard. Long story, involving my old _Phi'lasasem_ roommate, _Enarrain_ t'Selok. It's the Second of February, 2351." She cocked her head in thought for a moment. "Okay, maybe the Fifth—a ch'Rihanturn is a bit longer than one of your days."

Evek, t'Aimne, and Stadi all visibly started at that; Tuvok merely raised his eyebrow again.

"That may be the source of the confusion, then," said the Vulcan. "On our side of this wormhole, it is June Fourth, 2371."

* * *

><p>"All right," said Gul Evek. "Options."<p>

"I think that they believe us," Stadi replied. "If that helps."

"Could be worse," said t'Aimne. "They could've called my bluff. That would've been bad."

"Bluff?" asked Paris.

"_Ie_," the Romulan confirmed with a wry grimace. "In the _Galae s'Shiar Rihan_ we hate the Tal'Shiar almost as much as the Klingons. I wouldn't shop my worst enemy to the Tal'Shiar. And if she weren't seriously upset, she'd remember that. _Ariennye_, she probably has that figured out by now."

"Dangerous," said Evek. "But apparently effective. Good woman."

"Thank you, sir."

"What's our next step?" asked Stadi. "Do we try sending a transporter signal through that wormhole?"

"No, it'd take a long time to send everyone, and sending a signal that big through would probably prematurely destabilize the wormhole," said Ballard with a shake of her head. "Torres, how much do you think we could send before the wormhole destabilizes?"

"No idea," the half-Klingon answered. "I'd have another problem to solve first. Kim and I had to write our own data compression algorithm just to get vidcom working. And it's still distorted. I've got no clue if I can compress something as big as a transporter signal and get anything on the other side but a pile of goo."

"Thank you for that mental image," Paris commented.

"We could test it," Harry suggested. "Use a standard test cylinder."

"There is something you are forgetting, Lieutenants," Tuvok put in. "Consider the implications of the Temporal Prime Directive."

"Damn, I _knew_ I was forgetting something," Stadi growled, pressing a palm to her forehead in consternation. "We still end up hiding out for twenty years before we're even allowed to turn up again."

"Yeah, a _Galor_-class destroyer crew arriving twenty years before it embarked would certainly have made state media," Marritza remarked. "I think I would've remembered that."

"So, what," Harry said, sounding confused, "we either branch off an alternate timeline or we…" He looked over at Ballard and Torres and they simultaneously said, "I hate temporal mechanics."

Gul Evek tried to keep a straight face but a booming belly laugh quickly got past his control, and soon everyone around the table save the Vulcans cracked up. Still, Tuvok's left eyebrow appeared to be stuck in the 'up' position.

"Ahem, mm, here's another, mm, option," said Daran Taril, trying to stop laughing. "Because I'm sure as fuck not being a Romulan's houseguest for twenty years." T'Aimne gave him a hurt look. "Sorry, I didn't mean… Um, we can ask R'Mor to take a message to our families and friends. Ask them to hold on to it for twenty years—hell, maybe they can prevent us from getting lost in the first place."

Kim commented, "That'd give DTI the biggest headache ever—"

"Actually, I think Captain Kirk has the market cornered on that," Ballard interrupted with a grin.

"Whatever. I'm open to it."

"At the very least," said Taril, "my wife doesn't have to think I'm dead for fifty years. Even if I can't be there for her and the kid, she'll know that I'm alive and so will the kid. Whatever we call him—or possibly her. Damn, she's probably going to call him Keran like she wanted now… not that I would've won that argument anyway."

"Whipped," Ballard chuckled.

"Got a problem with that?" retorted the Trill with a smile.

"None at all."

Tuvok's left eyebrow appeared to be attempting to levitate itself off of his face.

"On topic," said Evek, stifling a grin with military professionalism. "Torres, Ballard, can you send a datachip through without losing the data?"

"Possible," said Torres, chewing a knuckle. "I'd say that it'd be easier to transport molecules for precision than large amounts of matter."

"That ought to work," nodded Kim.

"Then I have an idea," said Evek. "Why does it have to be just one message?"

"You mean—" began Stadi.

"Full mission reports, after-action, First Contact, reports on our people and their status."

"Not the Ha'ni data," said Gil Kalar swiftly.

"_Fvadt _no," agreed t'Aimne. "Wouldn't want the Tal'Shiar getting hold of it, even if it means keeping it from my own people."

"No tech, nothing that would be classified," concurred Evek. "But after-action, casualty reports, Wildman's pregnancy—we need to have something positive, my Lycoris would have me in the yard—astrometrics probably, First Contact reports. Those are important."

"Kim, can you get something like that together?"

"Sure thing, Captain," said Harry with a nod.

"And letters home," T'pai added.

"Those, too," said Stadi.

"I'll get back in touch with the Romulans and write a quick letter to my wife," said Evek. "Kalar, get our data together, and work with Kim to get it onto a chip."

"Understood, sir."

* * *

><p>"Subadmiral t'Tyrava, this is Gul Evek. Do you read me?"<p>

"_Khre'Riov_ t'Tyrava is busy, Evek," said R'Mor, his image flickering onto the viewscreen. "What do you want?"

"I had a request to make, but I suppose, since the Subadmiral is busy… I would like to talk, man to man."

"I'm listening," said R'Mor guardedly.

"Do you have a family, Doctor?"

"Yes," R'Mor answered after moment of hesitation. "My wife is on ch'Rihan, with our daughter. She was born a few months into my deployment."

"Ah," said Gul Evek. "I am sorry that you missed her birth."

"You have children?" asked R'Mor.

"Yes," said the Cardassian. "My Lycoris and I raised three fine young men and two women. My eldest son's in the Guard and my daughters are in the civil service."

"What about the other boys?" asked R'Mor.

"Dead," said Evek, a flash of pain clouding his face. "They were on a troop carrier that was destroyed during the last war with the Federation."

"I am sorry for your loss," said the Romulan with genuine feeling. "I… I don't know what would happen, if I lost my wife or daughter."

"You can't quite understand until it's happened to you," said Evek, marshalling his control again. "And… well, that's part of why I hailed you. I'm stuck out here, fifty years from home. My wife is on Cardassia Prime, and she probably thinks that I'm dead. I know it's a lot to ask, but… if we were to send you a computer chip, containing messages to our loved ones and to our governments, would you be willing to ensure that they are received in twenty Terran years' time?"

R'Mor rapped his fingers on the arm of his command chair. "A time capsule? I'd have to look up the relevant regulations, and I obviously can't make any guarantees that the political situation twenty years from now will allow its delivery."

"There is little harm in trying, Commander. We have around 200 people over here, many of whom may never see their families again."

R'Mor sighed. "Very well, Cardassian. I will inquire with the High Command."

"Thank you," Evek replied with genuine sincerity. "This means a lot to me and to my men. Rest assured that if and when I return to Cardassia, I will remember your kindness. I may no longer be in charge of the Federation demilitarized zone, but I still have many contacts in the Union."

"Don't mention it," said R'Mor gruffly. "I just hope you'd do the same, if our places were switched."

"I would," Aman Evek said with absolute conviction. "Believe me, I would."

* * *

><p>"Did the transport go through?" Stadi asked.<p>

The Romulan on the far side of the wormhole held a green data card up to the camera and gave her a satisfied smile. "Convey my congratulations to your transporter chief and programmers. No apparent data loss."

_Voyager_'s bridge erupted in cheers and Stadi heard the Cardassians break into a celebratory song in their native tongue (the national anthem, for all she knew). Over the noise, she shouted, "Mr. Paris! Prepare to resume our previous course! Thank you for your help, Commander R'Mor."

"We will ferry this to ch'Rihan for delivery on the specified stardate. _Jolan'tru_, _Riov_ Stadi. May the Elements be with you."

"Backatcha," Paris responded. "_Voyager_ out."

Stadi headed over to her ready room and the door slid shut behind her. She had barely sat down when the door chimed. "Enter!"

Tuvok strode in. "I must make an apology, Captain," he said without preamble.

"What for? We got exactly what we wanted."

"I scheduled our message to be delivered on stardate 48320."

"But it was 48309 when we came over here…" Stadi's eyes flashed angrily as she made the connection and she surged to her feet and vaulted her desk. "_What in the name of all Twelve Deities possessed you to do that?_"

Tuvok was impassive. "Captain, the Temporal Prime Directive prohibits us from making alterations to our past. Therefore we were not allowed to prevent ourselves from setting out, so it fell to one of us to ensure that the message arrived after we had left. Since I perceived the problem, it was logical that—"

"Deities damn your logic, you green-blooded hobgoblin! I've got a hundred thirty people depending on me here! I can't do my job if you _sabotage_ me!"

"Captain, you are under the mistaken impression that I _wanted_ to do that. I believe that it is necessary to let you in."

And Stadi _looked_.

Like most Betazoids, Veronica Stadi was most comfortable with her mind open, flowing and feeling those around her instead of alone in her own head. When Tuvok allowed a gap in his emotional control, she _felt_ it… and the tide beneath sucked her in. Underneath that veneer of Vulcan control, that rock-solid competence and confidence, she felt anguish. His love for his wife, and his pride in his son, and his fear, the same fear that gripped the subconscious of every _Voyager_ or _Vetar_ crew member she'd scanned, telepath or no.

But the raw _strength_ of those emotions startled her. Stadi had been told by an old friend, who had a history of dating aliens, that Vulcans were so uptight because beneath the logic their emotions were orders of magnitude more powerful than those of most humanoids; now she saw that first-hand. Tuvok was _devastated_, to use an inadequate word.

Stadi gasped, forcing herself back into her own head. She stared at the viewport on the exterior wall as reality was colorfully distorted by the activation of the ship's warp drive, unable to meet her first officer's gaze. Finally, she spoke up.

"I didn't realize you were married, Tuvok. I'm sorry."

"You had no reason to know. There is no need to apologize."

Stadi reclaimed her seat. Tuvok stood stiffly by the door.

"You're absolutely certain that there was no other way?"

"During my first term of service with Starfleet, almost eighty years ago, I served under Captain Hikaru Sulu. When I transferred off of the _Excelsior_, he told me of an incident that the _Enterprise_ was involved with under Captain Kirk. Kirk, Commander Spock, and Doctor McCoy were transported into the past by an alien entity after the latter accidentally dosed himself with a mind-altering drug while working on then-Lieutenant Sulu. McCoy accidentally altered the timeline by saving the life of a woman he met in Earth's past, causing the Federation to cease to exist. Spock and Kirk repaired the timeline, at the cost of Keeler's life."

"So she caused a war, wiped out Earth, leaving the Federation as a warring mess of Vulcans, Andorians, and Tellarites?" Stadi asked.

"Quite the reverse," said Tuvok. "She was a devoted pacifist. She led a noble but misguided movement that allowed an authoritarian state to take over Earth, purely by accident. By all accounts she was a noble and selfless person, but her actions changed the course of all our histories for the worse."

"And so… so… This is one of those 'needs of the many' things, isn't it? If we hadn't been dragged out here, those women, like t'Aimne and Kes, would still be slaves of the Kazon."

"Most probably. And the Vidiians would be traveling yet further down a dark road. The effects of temporal incursions are unpredictable at best, and we have already done several good deeds on this journey. Whatever has happened, was meant to happen. No matter how painful it is to us, we must know this."

"It isn't fair," whispered Stadi.

"No," Tuvok agreed somberly. "It is not. But the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few… and we, unfortunately, are the few."

* * *

><p><em>Personal log, Lieutenant Harry Kim, operations officer, USS <em>Voyager_. _

_Wow. What a day. _

_My head's still spinning; we talked with Romulans from twenty years ago, sent a message back home—I put in a video letter to my mom so that she knows I'm alive—and now we're off to the Sikarian homeworld. _

_Even after the last couple of months, this was a strange day. And I'm including lizard-women, space hillbillies, and organ-snatchers in that last couple of months, too. _

_Kepa Ayala's combat training classes started yesterday. The Cardassians are pitching in, too—Ocett's teaching a martial art she calls _chakar daran_, and t'Aimne is giving lessons in _llaekh-ae'rl_, and I hope I pronounced that right. I'm sore all over—that little Romulan really packs a punch. And just when I thought things would get a little easier, I got partnered up with Torres._

_Speaking of Torres, Captain Stadi's put us both up for a commendation for the file compression algorithm we developed. At this rate, I might get promoted again before we get home… _

* * *

><p><em>Permanent documentation file, Taril D. Gi., helmsman, Cardassian Fourth Order destroyer <em>Vetar_. _

_Hey, honey. _

_I'm keeping a copy if this message to remind myself of what I'm fighting for. You. The kid. That house we talked about…_

_Gaunt's hosts. I miss you, honey. _

_Stick with Mrs. Evek. The Gul tells me she's a strong woman, and she apparently has a network of military wives—the Gul's crew's families—that she looks after just in case, so you just go to her and introduce yourself, and she should get you a job that you can do or something like that._

_I'm probably going to be home in about fifty years, give or take a couple, though the Gul figures we'll come across some wormholes or something to shorten the journey. I'm really sorry. This alien thing, it snatched us across the galaxy, killed half the crew… it was a nightmare. _

_I'm alive and well, though, don't worry. Gul Evek gave me a permanent Guard commission; I'm really starting to like Cardassians. Better than Thot Kol and the Thot Prans who we could never tell apart and that damned Nausicaan, for sure. It's a more stable living than smuggling, too. We could have the whole stereotypical life, when I get back. Granted, the kid'll be grown up by then._

_I won't blame you if you find someone else. The kid needs a solid family; that's another thing the Cardassians have right. Just… don't let the kid go the traditional route. He or she will be his or her own person, not some damn body for a symbiote. _

_And for the love of all that's holy don't name him Keran. I'm begging you, honey. _

_Your husband, _

_Daran Taril_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note, by StarSwordC:<strong>

Worffan and I both wanted to do "Eye of the Needle" in our storyline, but we realized fairly early that there were some plot holes we hadn't noticed before, starting with the fact that the uniform a Starfleet crew would've worn in 2351, R'Mor's home time period, was the uniform that debuted with _The Wrath of Khan_: One TNG episode has a flashback to Picard's days as a junior officer when he was run through by a Nausicaan in a bar fight, and he's wearing the TWOK maroon jacket and black pants. So were the _Enterprise_-C crew in "Yesterday's Enterprise". Meanwhile the _Voyager_ crew wears the DS9 uniform which is way different.

Soon we noticed other problems from our scenario (the Feds and Cardies had border wars going starting in the late 2340s, we've got a Romulan officer on the _Vetar_, there's been first contact with the Dominion, etc.) and it became pretty clear that if they got vidcom working at all, there was no good way to have the dramatic reveal at the end that R'Mor was from twenty years in the past without invoking plot-induced stupidity, which frankly offends me as a writer. So, they work it out early.

And unlike the VOY writers, we plan to have this pay off. Stay tuned.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note, from worffan101:<strong>

First off, yes, that was an in-joke about Harry the Eternal Ensign. I've been working on portraying him as the intelligent, proactive man we see in _Star Trek Online_, while maintaining his relative newbie nature. Thus, he gets beaten up, but asks the Captain for combat training (just as an example). I hope that we're doing a good job so far.

There is a lot of Romulan language, primarily from Diane Duane's _Rihannsu_ series, sprinkled throughout here; most of it is various forms of "yes" and "yes, sir", but a couple of standouts are _Eyiv s'Rea_ ("Rea's Helm", a common Romulan ship name), _Rihan_ (literally, "Declared", descended from an ancient Vulcan word and used to describe the Romulan people (_Rihanh_), their capital planet (_ch'Rihan_), and such), and _Lloannen'galae_ (a reference to the Federation Starfleet).

Quick glossary:

_— __Ariennye_: lit. "Hell".  
><em>— <em>_Lloann'mhrahel_: lit. "Them, from there"; refers to the United Federation of Planets.  
><em>— <em>_Enarrain_: Military rank, equivalent to a Starfleet lieutenant commander. _Enarrain_ Selok is a reference to TNG: "Data's Day". _Arrain_ is a lieutenant.  
><em>— <em>_Fvadt_: Profanity, akin to "damn".  
><em>— <em>_Galae_: lit. "fleet", but is closer related to aircraft than seagoing ships for cultural reasons (in other words, the Romulan space fleet draws its organizational heritage from the air force instead of the navy).  
><em>— <em>_Galae s'Shiar Rihan_: Grand Fleet, Imperial Romulan Fleet.  
><em>— <em>_Hevam, Hevammsu, Hevamh_: derogatory term for Humans.  
><em>— <em>_Jolan'tru_: All-purpose greeting meaning either "hello" or "goodbye" depending on context, akin to Hawaiian "aloha".  
><em>— <em>_Phi'lasasem_: Romulan fleet academy.  
><em>— <em>_Riov_: Commander (as in of a starship), equivalent of a Federation Captain. A _Khre'Riov_ is a rear admiral, or perhaps more appropriately a commodore; normally commanding a single ship but with the authority to oversee a task group.  
><em>— <em>_Shaoi kon_: Formal greeting, inferior to superior (or guest to host).  
><em>— <em>_Shiar ih'Saeihr Rihan_: Romulan Star Empire.


	5. Factoring Primes

**The Mysterious Case of Neelix's Lungs**

**Episode 1x5: "Factoring Primes", by starswordc & worffan101**

**Rewrite of "Prime Factors" (VOY 1x10)**

* * *

><p>Cast list:<p>

**Main and recurring cast: **

Gul Aman Evek, CO, CDS _Vetar_: Richard Poe.

Acting Dalin Hogue Marritza, tactical officer, CDS _Vetar_: Eric Etebari

Gil Kalar, operations officer, CDS _Vetar_: Sean Maher.

Glinn Nirymer, CMO and chief therapist, CDS _Vetar_: Murphy Guyer.

Gil Daran Taril, helmsman, CDS _Vetar_: Alan Tudyk.

Glinn Alina i'Kevratas t'Aimne, sensor officer, CDS _Vetar_: Morena Baccarin.

Glinn Emil Tarak, security chief CDS _Vetar_: Nathan Fillion.

Gil Kerani Ocett: Gina Torres.

Captain Veronica Stadi, CO USS _Voyager_: Alicia Coppola.

Commander Tuvok, XO USS _Voyager_: Tim Russ.

Lieutenant Harry Kim, operations officer, USS _Voyager_: Garret Wang.

Lieutenant Commander T'Pai, CMO USS _Voyager_: Aly Michalka

Lieutenant Lyndsay Ballard, ChENG USS _Voyager_: Kim Rhodes.

Lieutenant Kepa Ayala, security chief, USS _Voyager_: Tarik Ergin.

Lieutenant Emergency Medical Hologram, deputy CMO USS _Voyager_: Robert Picardo.

Lieutenant JG B'Elanna Torres, deputy ChENG USS _Voyager_: Roxanne Dawson

Chief Warp Core Engineer Seska Harani, reactor chief, USS _Voyager_: Martha Hackett

Ensign Tom Paris, helmsman/tactical officer, USS _Voyager_: Robert Duncan McNeill.

Crewman Celes Tal, sensor chief, USS _Voyager_: Zoe McLellan.

Ensign Ahni Jetal, transporter officer USS _Voyager_: Nancy Bell.

Neelix: Ethan Phillips.

**Guest-starring: **

Julian Bashir, chief medical officer, Deep Space Nine: Siddig el Fadil.

Elim Garak, not in any way an ex-Obsidian Order spy: Andrew Robinson.

Controller-Commander Tar, Sikarian Orbital Command: Richard Brooks

Magistrate Gathorel "Gath" Labin, Sikarian Canon: Ronald Guttman

Eudana, Sikarian guide: Yvonne Suhor

Jaret Otel, Sikarian guide: Andrew Hill Newman

* * *

><p><em>Federation Starbase Deep Space 9, B'hava'el System<br>__Federation Stardate 48640.66 (25 June 2371 Earth Standard)  
><em>_Bajoran Date: Satar 12, Seventh Era 917, Year of Entombed Blades_

"What do you think of these missing ships?" asked Garak.

Julian Bashir, if he were to be completely honest with himself, did not in fact want to talk with his… friend? Did friends have sex and then lie around talking afterwards? … about missing ships. He was having a terribly bad day, made worse by the tensions on Deep Space 9 surrounding the Dominion situation.

"I honestly don't care," he snapped from his position to Garak's right on the bed. Garak, still holding his PADD, raised an eyebrow ridge without turning.

"One of those days?"

Bashir grunted noncommittally. Garak sighed.

"Really, the political ramifications of this are more important than the manpower loss that this article is focusing on. _Voyager_ is a prototype ship with many new technologies, and _Vetar_'s commander is Aman Evek. I think I… ah, made a shirt for him once."

"It's alright, dear, we're alone." Bashir gave Garak a mildly amused look.

"Regardless," said Garak. "I didn't meet the man in person, but he's quite the character. Used to be a casual supporter of the anti-Federation faction in the Central Command, before two of his sons were killed in the war. Now he's part of the anti-war faction. Cardassian patriot to the core, but also a relatively flexible man. The Order considered tapping him but he was considered… shall we say, his moral compass was more aligned with doing things a particular way that we—I mean, they—did not support."

"Who commanded _Voyager_? And why'd they call off the search?"

Garak smiled internally; this would pique Julian's interest. "Kathryn Janeway, a science officer with little tactical or engineering training. Admiral Leyton called off the search apparently because we're needed on the Dominion matter. Also because we've, quote, 'swept half the sector twice and found absolutely nothing.'"

"Can't fault him for lack of sense. And why the hell did Starfleet send a career science officer in command of a long-range research vessel after a missing Maquis raider and Cardassian destroyer? Come to think of it, why'd they care enough to send a ship at all?"

"Intel asset, or maybe an operative, on one of the ships," Garak suggested. "A relatively valuable one, but not enough to scramble a larger ship. Given the way Janeway booked it with nine crewmen still not onboard, someone she knew. Of course, that is just my humble opinion, as a tailor with little to do these days besides bicker with you, my dear Doctor."

* * *

><p><em>Sikarian System, Delta Quadrant<br>__Federation Stardate 48642.5 (25 June 2371 Earth Standard)  
><em>_Cardassian Unified Date 4701.8.27/12_

"Sikarian authorities, this is Gul Aman Evek of the Cardassian Fourth Order, requesting permission to visit your homeworld and trade for supplies. Broadcasting on a broad-spectrum subspace band."

"Gul Evek, this is Controller-Commander Tar of the Sikarian Orbital Command. We are unfamiliar with your organization and starships; sending escorts now."

"Thank you, Commander Tar. We have powered down our weapons but will keep our shields up. Please forgive our caution."

"Met the Kazon, have you?" sighed Tar in the tone of one who's had a long day. "Damn stupid thugs… If I've told SpaceCom once I've told them a million times, we _need_ to find who's backing those morons and blast them out of space. What's the other ship with you?"

"That'd be my ship, USS _Voyager_," said Stadi over the open coms channel. "Pleasure to meet you, Commander; I'm Captain Veronica Stadi of the United Federation of Planets."

"Pleasure," Tar replied warmly. "Nadar, you have those scans—ah, thanks. Well, I can see how the Kazon could give you trouble; no offense, but your ships are just inside the range of tech that they can target without being destroyed instantly."

"That sounds like our luck," said Evek with a touch of mirth. "Approaching at one-quarter impulse."

"Negative, _Vetar_. We are coming to you and will escort you to our orbital dockyard. We're willing to provide supplies, repairs, and R&R, free of charge. Welcome to Sikaris."

* * *

><p>"Before we disembark," said Gul Evek to the briefing room, "we need to remember some clear objectives on top of relaxing. Neelix?"<p>

"Yes, sir?" asked the Talaxian with an overeager salute.

"Mind your head there, try not to incapacitate yourself with enthusiasm. We're going to need you, Kes, and Wildman's team to get some edible plants and such that we can grow in the hydroponics bays and use for food."

"I will, sir. I've heard good things about Sikarian food."

"Good. Get as much as you can." Neelix nodded and ran out of the room.

"Ballard," ordered Stadi. "I need you to get engine-room type tech and tools, drive crystals, unreplicatable materials, you know the drill. Anything we need to get home."

"Yessir. Seska, Torres, I need you on this after your break."

"See if you can get materials for the tricobalt warheads," suggested Evek. "And whatever the Caretaker power cores need."

"We need to think about shuttles, too," said Stadi. "Shuttles are really easy to destroy, and three of ours got wrecked in the crossing."

"I know," Ballard groaned. "We had to cannibalize _Tyson_ and _Shen Quo_ to fix the _Ali Qushji_."

"Besides," said Kim, "almost every time a Starfleet officer's been stranded on an alien planet, it's been because of a shuttle crash. We've been lucky so far, and haven't been using shuttles much in any event, but better safe than sorry."

"Maybe a more runabout-style craft?" suggested Evek. "More heavily armed and armored, with a larger cargo capacity?"

"We have the Aeroshuttle," said Stadi, "but that's more of a heavily armed Captain's yacht."

"I'll have my engineering crew work on something in their spare time. We'll just have to bring up everything we can that's hard to replicate."

"Good idea," Stadi replied with a nod. "_Vetar_'s bigger than _Voyager_, and if you convert the ground troop quarters and such into spare cargo bays—"

"We could spare some room in the main shuttlebays where we've been storing supplies. Good idea. Kalar, get on that when you're done on Sikaris."

"Yes, my Gul."

"Marritza and I think we've figured out the Caretaker weapons," said Ballard. "We think we can fit some runabouts with them as dual tetryon beams."

"How effective would that be?" asked Evek.

"Using one of the power units the Array used as backups, probably about as effective as a full starship's weapons due to the runabout's lower power needs," said Marritza. "We've got five of the power units and Ballard thinks she can duplicate the tech."

"I'll need special materials that we should be able to pick up here," Ballard added. "Should be able to give the next bunch of people we run afoul of a bit of a surprise."

"It would be most amusing to see a Kazon ship destroyed by shuttles," mused Evek. "You have my full support."

"Agreed," said Stadi. "See if you can retrofit the Aeroshuttle with some micro-torpedo launchers, like one of those _Peregrine_-class fighters they were working on when we left home. Interesting article about them in the last issue of _Jane's_ by somebody named Amnell Kree; should be in the library."

"We can do that, for sure," nodded Ballard.

"Anything else?" Evek asked. "No? Then meeting adjourned."

* * *

><p>Sikaris' capital city L'hur was beautiful, B'Elanna thought. Situated on the edge of a cliff overlooking a river valley, the Sikarians favored alabaster colors and organic shapes, with few buildings more than two or three stories tall. The wider streets and alleys were lined with market stalls mostly selling luxury goods such as fine fabrics and art, but Ballard steered Seska away from those and quickly found the supplier Commander Tar had named for the naval stores they were looking for.<p>

"So, what do you want to see first?" Seska asked as they left the warehouse. "I think Gil Kalar said something about an art museum by the cliffside." The Bajoran scratched absently at the ridges on the bridge of her nose.

"I don't know, I kinda want to explore a little more, Chief," Ballard said.

"B'Elanna!" Paris shouted from behind them, running to catch up with the half-Klingon engineer. She turned, along with Ballard and Seska, both of whom crossed their arms protectively.

"What do you want?" asked Torres guardedly.

"I, uh, I wanted to apologize for the other day. I, uh… I've never met a girl like you before, and I'm, uh, really sorry we got off on the wrong foot."

Ballard snorted. Seska raised an eyebrow.

"Wrong foot?" said Torres dangerously.

"Uh, yeah. Um. I'm really sorry, for being insulting."

"You creeped on me in public, you dick. You're lucky I didn't press charges."

"Yeah. Um, I'm sorry about that. D'you… do you think we could start over?"

Ballard and Seska moved up to right behind Torres's shoulders. Torres held up a hand.

"Wait. I think he's sincere. Alright, Ensign. I'll give you a shot. I'll let you hang out around me during breaks, provided that you don't make so much as one single off-color comment. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," Paris agreed, visibly relieved. "Um. I, uh, hear the Sikarians have a concert of some kind about four blocks from here."

"Where'd you hear that?" Seska asked.

"This brochure that woman back there was handing out." He flicked his thumb at a Sikarian standing on a nearby corner and passed a sheet of folded material to Torres.

Torres was rather confused. The material felt and folded like paper, but the words scrolled on their own and it had full vid instead of still pictures. "E-paper?"

"I guess."

"Impressive stuff," Seska commented, taking it from Torres.

"Oh, here's that concert," Ballard said, reaching for the brochure. Her thumb brushed the video and music suddenly started playing from the page. "Whoa!" She let up and the sound muted again. "Full vid with audio? I'd _love_ to see what's making this tick."

Paris groaned. "Leave it to an engineer to get more excited over the binding than the book."

* * *

><p>"Catch you down there, Marritza," said Gil Ocett, standing with t'Aimne on the <em>Voyager<em>'s transporter pad. _Vetar_'s was being used to load supplies and engineering tools.

"Later, Ocett. You guys headed for the waterfalls they advertised?"

"Art gallery," said the Romulan. "Taril's been there already, says it's interesting. We're going to meet up with him and Glinn Tarak, have a nice walk through it."

"Well, good luck," said Marritza with a salute and an easy smile. The transporter hummed, and the women vanished.

"You waiting for something?" asked the ensign at the transporter station, a young Human woman.

"A date, I hope," said Marritza with a rueful grin. "You Federation types are onto something, with integrated ships, Ensign—"

"Jetal, Dalin. Ahni Jetal. Normally I'm a shuttle pilot, but we're short on transporter operators."

"Yeah, because of that damn Caretaker. Hogue Marritza, by the way. Chief tac officer on the _Vetar_. I'm waiting on a woman I want to ask out."

"Good luck."

"Thanks. Oh, here she is!"

"Here who is?" asked Celes Tal, _Voyager_'s sensor chief, hiking boots on her feet and a rucksack on her back.

"You. You want to go hiking with me, maybe have a picnic? I mean, I think you're a very pretty woman and—"

The next thing Marritza knew, he was on the floor, wondering dazedly how he got there and what was wrong with his mouth.

"You stay the _phekk_ away from me, spoonhead!" spat the Bajoran. Jetal had enough presence of mind to activate her combadge with a quick, whispered "Jetal to Captain Stadi"; the Captain was with Gul Evek, doing inventory and testing on the new supplies, she'd be able to transport over quickly.

"Whu? Whu'd I—" managed Marritza before Celes grabbed him by the front of his uniform, hauled him up, and planted a knee in his stomach to send him rebounding off the wall again. Jetal made a grab for Celes but missed.

Before Celes could do more serious damage, the transporter hummed, and Evek, Stadi, and Tuvok materialized. Tuvok reached for the still-shouting Celes and pinched her neck; the Bajoran went limp in mid-curse. Stadi muttered something about not needing this headache. Evek looked down at Marritza, who was nursing what looked like a broken tooth.

"What did you say, soldier?"

"I jus' asked her out f'r a date, my Gul. An' she punched me!"

Evek pinched the bridge of his nose, his posture clearly that of a man whose patience is stretched to the limit. "My office. Two minutes. We need to talk."

"Get Celes to my ready room," Stadi snapped to Tuvok. "Clearly there is a discipline issue that I need to address."

* * *

><p>Gul Aman Evek was not a happy man. Dalin Marritza was experiencing his displeasure. It wasn't pleasant.<p>

"Are you a _complete shtellkan incompetent_, Marritza?" Evek growled. "I know that we're on the far side of the galaxy, but you and I both know that the Obsidian Order has eyes and ears _everywhere_. Hell, they blackmailed me and used me to try a man for the wrong crimes last year because they couldn't pin sedition on my youngest. On top of that, _in what possible permutation of reality_ do you think that it would be appropriate for a Cardassian man in our day and age to approach a Bajoran woman like that?"

Around the ice pack on his jaw, Marritza started, "I, uh—"

"Do you have any idea how many Bajorans our forces killed for no military purpose?"

"No, I—"

"Neither do I! Bureau of Military Statistics stopped bothering to count anything but their ill-gotten gains after the first five years!"

"But I never—"

"She doesn't know that you didn't intend any harm. She doesn't see a man with a family back home and a career to worry about, she sees a Cardassian like the ones who murdered a friend, raped a cousin."

"I didn't think—"

"No, you damn well didn't!" the gul thundered.

"I'm shorry?" Marritza tried, lisping slightly. He thought one of his teeth was broken.

Evek subsided somewhat and he let out a breath. "You're what? 26? 27?"

"I'm 34 next week, my Gul."

"34? And a glinn, still, when you came aboard?"

"Long shtory."

"In any event you're old enough to know better. I have no need for an apology. What I need is an officer with enough common sense not to think with his hemipenes." He drew himself up and faced the viewport of his ready room. "I would dock pay but in our current situation there is little point in the bursar dispensing it in the first place. Replicator and holodeck privileges suspended for two weeks, and you are banned from setting foot on Sikaris for non-duty reasons. And you will apologize to Crewman Celes. Now get yourself down to the infirmary and have Nirymer look you over."

* * *

><p>Lieutenant Harry Kim had to admit, the Sikarian woman was beautiful. He didn't have the heart to tell her that her flirting wouldn't be reciprocated, though.<p>

"… And this is one of our atmospheric sensors," said the Sikarian—Harry thought her name was Eudana. "Do you like the design?"

"Artistic, I suppose," said Harry. "Where I come from, we usually keep tech a bit more utilitarian. I think this is an interesting design, though."

She smiled and laughed. "Oh, you're so sweet!" He chuckled, a bit uncomfortable with a woman hanging off of his arm. "So, um, from what I've heard, you're not from this part of the galaxy originally."

Harry let out a breath. "Long story, and not a happy one."

"I've got time." She disengaged herself from him and made a few adjustments to the atmospheric sensor. "I'm a climatologist in my day job."

"My training's mainly in logistics," Harry returned.

She straightened, passed what looked like a tricorder over the sensor vanes, and leaned back, satisfied, then hooked herself over Harry's arm again and led him down to a park bench by a fountain. "So, how'd you get from one side of the galaxy to the other?"

So Harry told her. He told her about the missing ships, the Caretaker who nearly killed him, the alliance with their old enemies, the Kazon-Ogla camp, the doomed Ocampa city, the battle in space, the realization that odds were, he would never see his family again in his lifetime. And as he watched Eudana's face, it went from exuberant to sympathetic.

At length he finished. "That is a very noble story," she said.

Harry was confused. "'Noble'?"

Eudana nodded. "Stories can be whimsical, or frightening, or melancholy, or many other things. But noble stories are the ones that can most affect our lives. May I have your permission to tell others this story?"

"Not really a secret."

"No, but stories, they're an essential part of every person, every culture. I would never wish to steal a part of another person."

"Go right ahead—there's more where that came from."

"Thank you," she said sincerely. "Here," and she took his hand and stood. "I'll show you something amazing! I'll take you somewhere private, and you can tell me all your stories!"

"All right," Harry chuckled as she led him up to some sort of platform. "So what is this—"

Ignoring him, she said, "Alastria," and they were somewhere else, surrounded by forests.

"Just in time for the sunrise!" beamed Eudana, pulling him through the woods to the top of the hill.

"Right," said Harry. "Sorry, a bit disoriented from the trans—wait, Sikaris doesn't have two suns!"

"Well, Alastria is in a binary system."

Harry Kim's jaw dropped as he realized what had just happened.

* * *

><p>Stadi sat impassively behind her desk, letting Celes stand at attention, stewing. The Betazoid had her walls up but even so, the mixture of anger and indignation wafting off the E-3 was enough to make her mildly nauseous.<p>

"What in the name of the Dagger of the Second Deity was that?" Stadi finally said.

"Sir—" Celes started, defiantly, but Stadi overrode her.

"You do know what the normal penalty is for assault and battery of an allied officer, right?"

"Captain, he—"

"Shut. Up." The Bajoran's mouth snapped shut. "I don't give a damn what he said; your behavior was inexcusable, and if we were back home I'd have you in the brig awaiting court-martial. But, courtesy of that stupid blob we've got no way to even contact JAG, and I don't have the luxury of cashiering you and throwing you in the brig for the next three years, so it's NJP. I'm reducing you one grade, revoking your replicator and holodeck privileges, and attaching you to the custodial team for the next six months. And when you aren't either doing that or on duty, you're confined to quarters. And I want to make doubly clear, you're getting off _incredibly_ light. I've got half a mind to kick you off the ship right here and let you _hitchhike_ back to the Alpha Quadrant!"

Celes' eyes widened. "You'd do that, sir?"

"Yes, I would," Stadi said seriously. Celes looked off to the right and muttered something. "You want to _repeat_ that, Crewman?"

"Why me and not Torres?"

"Irrelevant. Ask _Lieutenant_ Torres yourself if you want. The point is, I can't afford to have a crew member who's going to fly off the handle at the slightest _imagined_ provocation threaten our alliance with the _Vetar_ crew, as I _really_ don't want to face this quadrant without backup. If you can't get that through your head, I want your rank and combadge on my desk now, and you can take your chances with the Sikarians." Celes didn't move. "Well?"

Celes straightened. "Sir. No, sir."

"Good. One more thing. You're going to apologize to Dalin Marritza."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you didn't like <em>The Never-Ending Sacrifice<em>!" said Glinn Tarak in mild horror. "It's the greatest piece of art ever created by a Cardassian!"

T'Aimne and Taril snorted a bit at that, and Ocett rolled her eyes almost imperceptibly. Their Sikarian guide, Jaret Otel, a man with a friendly face and a receding hairline, smiled pleasantly. "Well, after the first two acts, I rather got the idea of where the rest were going."

"'The Second Legate's Ode' is far superior in terms of poetry," said Ocett. "_Shtel_, even t'Aimne liked that one."

"It is very romantic," the Romulan agreed. "I think that the legate's devotion to his wife is admirable, and the imagery is wonderful."

"Barbarians," sniffed Tarak overdramatically. "No appreciation for the quality of a good repetitive epic."

Taril guffawed loudly at that. T'Aimne continued, "I wish I had a handy copy of _Taer'thaiemenh_ by V. Raiuhes Ahaefvthe, or Surak's _Analects_."

One of Ocett's eyebrow ridges raised at that. "Why Surak? You're a Romulan, not a Vulcan."

"I don't have to be a Thaesha to find the images beautiful, the poetry moving. Don't tell the Tal'Shiar, though," she added, to laughter from Ocett and Taril.

"What's up?" asked Gil Kalar, fresh from the local spa, as they walked up to him by a fountain.

"Comparative Literature," the Trill answered. T'Aimne snorted.

"Ah," said Kalar, not eager to continue down that vein.

"I _did_ like that Earth novel you gave me," Otel said to Taril. "What I read of it, anyway."

"_The Lord of the Rings_ is one of my favorites," he agreed. "Kind of an oldie, but sometimes old is good."

Kalar tried to change the subject. "Hey, what do you guys think of the—" His communicator beeped. "Hang on. Kalar here."

"Kalar, this is Harry Kim!" shouted the Human excitedly through the comlink. "You're not going to _believe_ what I've just found!"

* * *

><p>"We call it a spatial trajector," the Sikarian magistrate informed Stadi and Evek. Gathorel Labin, he'd said his name was; he'd been assigned as their handler for their stay. "Alastria is 40,000 light-years from Sikaris and at the limit of its range, but we are able to travel to any planet within that radius. Although why you would <em>want<em> to travel to most of them…" He trailed off.

"Magistrate Labin—" Stadi began.

"Gath, please," he said, sounding mildly embarrassed. "'Magistrate Labin' is for court."

"Gath, then. Do you have any idea what this means to us? Is there any possible way we could—"

"I tried to tell him, Magistrate," Eudana broke in, gesturing to Kim.

"Tell him what?" Evek asked.

"We cannot share our technology. Once it's out of our control, it might fall into the hands of those who would abuse it, and our canon of laws strictly forbids that."

"Figures!" Kalar burst out. Evek turned and glared at him; the younger Cardassian turned away, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"We have information," offered Gul Evek, turning back to Gath Labin. "Information on extremely effective weapons, armor technologies, instantaneous pan-galactic transport… Essentially, everything the Ha'ni gave us that we haven't figured out yet. We'll give it all to you, in exchange for—"

The Sikarian cut him off. "I am truly sorry, but the law is clear: no sharing technology with non-Sikarians if they do not already have it."

Evek muttered something under his breath about Prime Directives. Stadi rapped a hand on the table. "Gath, I understand completely where you're coming from. My service is bound by a similar law, one possibly even more restrictive than yours—we're not even allowed to interact with pre-warp cultures, for instance. But if we gave you our word that we would erase all relevant information—"

"I'm sorry, Captain. Please don't make this more difficult for me. I don't enjoy denying you this, but our canon of laws has determined our entire system of values. To break one of its precepts would undermine everything we believe in. I'm sorry, but there can be no exceptions to the law."

* * *

><p>"Well, this is a colossal disappointment," Evek said in <em>Voyager<em>'s wardroom later. "The first race we've encountered since the Caretaker with a truly useful technology, and they follow the Prime Directive or something very like it." He shook his head in disgust.

"I can't _believe_ they're not going to help us!" Ayala said. "Some hospitality."

"Forty thousand light-years," Kalar grumbled. "Even if that's as far as it goes, it's still over halfway home, and we might even be able to reuse it and be home tomorrow!"

Tuvok was impassive as usual, but even though Stadi had her walls up she thought she could see disappointment in his eyes. "Since they have already said no, this kind of thinking is only going to make you feel worse."

Stadi stood and faced the view of Sikaris out the wardroom viewport. "Fourth year at the Academy I did my senior project on the Prime Directive, how it keeps us from doing irreparable harm to other cultures, even through no fault of our own. But now that we're on the other side of it…"

"Now you see how _my_ people felt," Celes growled. The Bajoran's comment was aimed at Stadi but she was glaring daggers at the Cardassians, still smarting over losing one of her hard-earned pips. Stadi didn't have the heart to call the Bajoran on her tone.

Paris broke in, "Without even trying I can think of half a dozen times Starfleet personnel have decided on strong ethical grounds to throw out the Prime Directive. More trouble than it's worth as far as I'm concerned."

Kim shot back, "Tom, there's a reason it's General Order One. Just human history alone is rife with instances where interfering in other cultures led to disaster."

"Yeah, and most of those had to do with military conquest! What the hell do you—"

"Captain Stadi," Evek interrupted, crossing his arms, "this discussion is beside the point. The Cardassian Guard is not bound by anything resembling your Prime Directive. Or theirs."

"What are you saying, Gul Evek?"

"I'm suggesting we look for a better offer. Magistrate Labin may be our… case officer, for want of a better term, but he is far from the only official we could do business with."

"But what do we offer?" Tuvok wondered. "We know relatively little of the Sikarians but they are quite clearly even more of a post-scarcity economy than a Federation core world."

"And they already rejected our offer of technical information," t'Aimne added.

"Stories," Kim said, recalling his conversation with Eudana. "Stories are an important part of their culture, even more so than in ours. They treat them like a measuring rod of values and beliefs. _Voyager_ has a huge library in her databanks. We could offer them the whole thing. All the great literature of dozens of cultures."

T'Aimne nodded. "I concur. Jaret Otel was most appreciative of some of the samples we showed him."

"Just don't give him _The Never-Ending Sacrifice_ again," Taril deadpanned, to laughter from some of the others.

"Then Otel could be our in," Kalar said.

Stadi gave them a look somewhere between disbelieving and shocked. "I can't believe this, are we actually considering encouraging a member of another culture to break the law? I can't sign off on this!"

"Then do not," Evek said. "You are not my superior officer, therefore what my chain of command does is not your responsibility."

"You're missing the point!"

"The _point_, Captain Stadi, is that I am responsible for my people as much as you are for yours, and our collective responsibility is to get home. And I will grind whatever grist the mill requires to fulfill my duty."

Stadi stared at the older man. "All right, forget the Prime Directive for a minute. What happens when the Sikarian government finds out we deliberately circumvented their laws? And they _will_ find out sooner or later. At least let me _try_ to go through channels again before you blow the goodwill we've gained here."

"Oh, I agree," Evek said. "Despite their pretensions I find it hard to dislike the Sikarians enough to deliberately abuse their hospitality. But given our situation we would be remiss not to explore all options."

* * *

><p>Back in the ready room, Stadi opened a channel to the Sikarian Canon. The receptionist who answered was young and pretty, like most of the Sikarian women the Betazoid had seen. "Yes, I'm trying to reach Magistrate Labin, please."<p>

"I believe he may have left for the day, but I can transfer you to his office. Hold please."

The screen flicked to a view of Gath Labin pulling on a jacket. "Hm? Captain Stadi. What can I do for you?"

"It's about the trajector, Gath. I have a new proposal for you."

Labin gave her an exasperated look. "I'm _sorry_, Captain. My answer is the same as before."

"Wait, hear me out, please." She looked up to Tuvok, standing on the far side of her desk, and he nodded. "What if _you_ were to use the trajector?"

"Me?"

"The Canon. I'm proposing that your government use the trajector to transport us as far as you can, near the galactic core. That way there's little risk of us abusing the technology since we'll never be in possession in the first place."

Labin took his jacket back off. "Go on."

"In exchange, we're prepared to offer you a full library of Federation literature." She paused for effect, smiling enticingly. "Think about it, Gath. Tens of thousands of years of literature, from a hundred or more species. Hundreds of thousands of stories, for a simple favor."

Labin fell into more than sat in his chair. "Well, you certainly know how to tempt me, Captain. It's certainly _possible_. I'll have to meet with the other magistrates to discuss it. No one has ever made a request like that. I'll get back to you."

"Please do. And thank you." She turned off the screen. "Think it'll work, Tuvok?"

"I do not have enough evidence upon which to base an opinion."

"Thanks. You're a huge help, Tuvok. Deities," and she rested her head in her hands. "I just hope he gets back to me before Evek does something we can't take back."

* * *

><p>Seska, Torres, and Kalar were hard at work in a dirtside warehouse, doing inventory on the naval stores the Sikarians had donated to the cause. The Cardassian logged several pallets of drive crystals and glanced over at the Bajoran chief petty officer. "These crystals should work for each of us. They had to grind the dilithium special since they use a different configuration for their warp cores." Seska didn't answer. "They like to stick voles in there because the smell makes the regnars loopy and less likely to sit on the bogon emitters."<p>

Seska shook shook her head slightly. "Hm?"

"What's the deal, Starfleet? You looked a million light-years away."

"No, only about seventy thousand." The Bajoran sighed. "My brother's birthday is in four days. Last year I promised I'd meet him on Nivoch, celebrate with him. He'll think I broke my promise, that I'm dead."

"I think we're all in that boat," Torres said. "I mean, I'm an only child and I'm not on particularly good terms with my parents, but I miss them. I miss them a lot."

"My baby sister for me," Kalar joined in. "She'll have started her apprenticeship at the Science Ministry last week." He let out a breath. "Somehow, I have a bad feeling about this. It's just not going to work out."

"The Sikarians won't go for it," Seska agreed. "I think it's up to us."

"What do you mean?" Torres asked.

"It means that we can sit here and let someone make the decision for us, or we can take matters into our own hands."

"Contact Otel _ourselves_?" Kalar asked.

"Contact me about what?" the Sikarian said, walking in.

"I'm sure you're aware we're trying to negotiate access to your spatial trajector technology," Seska started before Torres could speak.

"I did hear, yes."

"We want to offer a trade," Kalar continued. "The contents of _Voyager_'s library for the device."

Otel nodded. "I can make that happen."

"Are you authorized?" Torres asked.

Otel shook his head. "Officially? No. But many people believe that rules should be flexible enough to meet the needs of the moment. There is a great desire here for new stories and I want to be the one to supply them. The prestige I'd get? I'll be a magistrate in my own right at the next election."

"Good old-fashioned ambition, it never fails," Kalar remarked, approvingly. "When can we make the exchange?"

* * *

><p>Gath Labin was somber when he hailed <em>Voyager<em> again the next day. "I'm afraid the Canon rejected your proposal, Captain Stadi."

The Betazoid simply answered, "Damn." Sundry other, far less complimentary curses echoed through the starship's bridge.

"I'm sorry. For what it's worth, I voted 'yes', but the majority whip was solidly against and the Constructionists carried it."

"Politics as usual?"

"I'm afraid so. This is a day I'm not terribly proud to be a Sikarian." The magistrate sighed. "What are your plans now?"

"Get back on the road. We've had a good time staying with you and we appreciate your hospitality, but—"

"I understand. Luck be with you." He closed the channel and the viewscreen reverted to a view of the starfield, with the blue-green orb of Sikaris taking up the port side.

Stadi sighed and hit the communications key on her armrest. "Stadi to Kim. Are the supplies loaded?"

"Aye, Captain," Harry Kim's voice answered.

"Then start recalling the crew from shore leave. I want to be underway by 1800 hours." She clicked it off. "Comms, get me _Vetar_."

* * *

><p>"With shore leave cancelled, can we get to the surface undetected?" Torres asked Seska as they rushed through <em>Voyager<em>'s corridors, headed for one of the secondary transporter rooms.

"We'll have to override the security lock-out but that shouldn't be a problem," the Bajoran answered. She palmed the door access and they rushed inside.

"What kept you?" Gil Kalar asked, waiting for them on the transporter pad. "No, never mind. We've only got an hour left before departure."

Seska nodded and pressed her hand against the palm lock, then frowned when the screen flashed red. The message read, "Chief Petty Officer Seska Harani. Security access denied." Seska tried again, then swore. "It's not accepting my code! This worked earlier!"

"Never mind, beam us down anyway," Torres said.

"Are you mad?" Kalar retorted. "They'll have Ayala on us before we get two blocks."

Then somebody cleared his throat. Torres and Seska looked up and promptly snapped to attention for Commander Tuvok.

The Vulcan gestured to the case dangling from Torres' shoulder. "Is this _Voyager_'s library, which you intended to trade for the trajector technology?"

"You knew about that, sir?" Seska asked.

"I suspected that someone would attempt to make the exchange without clearance so I placed a tripwire in the computer. I was alerted when you began the download. Who is your contact, Lieutenant Torres?"

She sighed. "Jaret Otel. We were going to meet him behind the art museum." He reached for the case and she handed it to him. Then the chocolate-skinned man stepped up onto the transporter pad. "Sir, what are you—"

"I shall make the transaction myself. You are needed in Engineering, preparing our ships to use the trajector device."

* * *

><p>"This is a complete library, correct?" Otel asked, eyeing the data cards in the case.<p>

"As complete as is found standard on a Federation starship," said Tuvok. "The archive contains complete copies and discussion of more significant pieces of surviving fiction from the Human, Andorian, Vulcan, Tellarite, Bajoran, Benzite, Xindi, Bolian, and Rigellian species, along with selected works from other species and cultures. Murasaki, Tolkien, Surak, Akorem Laan, Ebrin Gesh, Dostoyevsky, sh'Vanthadaris—"

"Not that dreadful Cardassian piece, I hope."

"I do not know. But it contains novels, scripts, poetry, holoprograms, two-dimensional films, even several games. _Peach Blossom Fan_ and _Sundiata_ from Earth, _Analects_ from my homeworld, _Serenity_ in seventy languages, _Thok moll Tun_ from Bolarus… we have a very broad selection for you."

"And here I have two trajector devices and an owner's manual. This should be a good trade for both of us."

"Thank you," said Tuvok. "This is an agreeable arrangement."

"Fair warning, I take no responsibility for how it will interact with your systems. Oh, and speaking of warnings, a deep-range scout vessel has reported within the last two hours that the Kazon-Nistrim are on the move. They're one of the more dangerous sects and your courses are likely to coincide. Watch your back, Commander Tuvok."

"Forewarned is forearmed," the Vulcan said in an appreciative tone. "We will be watchful." He raised his right hand and separated his middle and ring fingers. "Live long, and prosper."

* * *

><p>The Sikarian leaned in, probably for a kiss, but Harry sighed and pushed her back. "Eudana, it would never have worked anyway."<p>

"Why's that? I like you, you like me—"

"But not the way you're thinking. I'm not into women."

Eudana opened her mouth, then closed it, and Harry could practically see the cogwheels clicking over in her mind. "Oh. _Oh._"

"Yeah," Harry said, nodding.

"Well, why didn't you just say so, if I was making you uncomfortable?"

"Honestly? Because I was having a pretty good time anyway."

"Aww. You're sweet."

"What? I was!"

Eudana pressed a hand to Harry's cheek, then leaned in again and kissed him on the other cheek. "Well, I had a great time, too. And hey, maybe we'll run into each other again. I'm offworld doing field studies all the time."

"We might at that." Harry knew the odds against were long, but then, the odds of them getting home at all were probably much longer.

Then he squashed that thought before it ruined the moment. "Well, I've got to get topside. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Harry Kim."

He tapped his combadge. "Kim to _Voyager_. One to beam up."

* * *

><p>"Alright," said Seska on the private channel. "It's installed. Kalar?"<p>

"Check," the Cardassian replied. "I have it synced to our systems."

"Good. Lieutenant, I need that delay."

"All set," Ballard replied. "Tuvok, we're ready."

"Be certain to time the activation properly," said the Vulcan. "I will be on the bridge, and unable to assist with the procedure. Tuvok out."

"Ready on five," Torres called from the warp core.

"Impulse engines ready to disconnect," Seska confirmed.

"I'm on the trajector," said Ballard.

"Bridge to Engineering, what's the holdup with the engines down there?"

"We have a bit of a malfunction with the impulse drive, sir, Torres is working on it!"

"Do you need me down there?"

"No, sir! We have it under control, it's just a minor phase variance in a plasma conduit! Ballard out!"

Ballard activated the trajector, motioning frantically to Seska.

"Seska to Kalar, how's it going?"

"It's on!" came Kalar's voice. "You?"

"Same," confirmed Torres. "Trajector field is expanding!"

"It's working!" hissed Ballard victoriously.

"Sir, I'm reading an instability in the plasma manifold!" Torres exclaimed. "I can't compensate! Core breach imminent!"

"Reading an anti-neutrino surge bombarding the manifold!" said Seska with a curse. "They must be a by-product of the trajector!"

"Shut it off!" barked Ballard.

"I can't!"

"Plasma temperature at fifty million Kelvin and rising!" screamed Torres over the sounds of red alert sirens.

"Stadi to Ballard! What in the name of the Second Deity is going on down there?"

"All under control, sir! Here, let me try my override!" Ballard punched in her code, but the command matrix wouldn't respond. "_Szlag to gówno_! Kalar, if you can't disconnect the trajector, shoot it with a phaser!"

Lieutenant Ballard then took her own advice and shot the device clean off of the console.

"Kalar here! The trajector's scrap, but the core's stabilizing!"

"Plasma manifold temperature dropping, sir," said Torres.

"Damn," mused Ballard. "Massive amounts of anti-neutrinos. Didn't see that one coming."

"What do we do?" asked Kalar over the link.

"Damned if I know," replied the Human. "Whatever happens, it isn't going to be pretty."

* * *

><p>"I take full responsibility," said Tuvok calmly.<p>

"What?" asked Stadi.

"For trading a copy of our library to Jaret Otel in exchange for two spatial trajectors with instruction manuals. I felt it a worthwhile endeavor. Please do not punish Lieutenant Ballard, Lieutenant Torres, or Chief Petty Officer Seska. While it was their idea, I approved it."

"Wait," said Stadi. "You went behind my back to trade for trajectors with Sikarian criminal elements?"

"Yes. I felt that in this case, the Prime Directive and laws like it are illogical and obstructive to our mission."

The Bridge was silent as Stadi went through several emotions at once. She finally settled on an option in the middle of confusion mixed with wrath. "By all Twelve Deities. I might have expected this from the Cardassians, but not _you_!" She punched a key on her console. "Stadi to Evek!"

"Evek here. I presume that one of your officers dealt with the Sikarians?"

"Yes, Commander Tuvok, Lieutenant Torres, and Chief Seska went behind our backs and dealt with that Otel man for two trajectors."

"Yes, Gil Kalar has just admitted his guilt. Very proactive, that man. Pity he had to do it behind my back."

"What the hell are we supposed to do now? Go back to Sikaris?"

"Oh, no, I'm sure that they have deduced what has happened already if they are suspicious. We did just attempt to use their technology, after all."

"Damn it! We can't afford to burn bridges this far from home! I don't even know where to start!"

"It is a complicated situation, true," said the Gul calmly. "Perhaps we should discuss the situation after we hammer out a set of rules to ensure that the unfortunate incident from earlier never happens again?"

Stadi pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

"Yeah. It'd probably be better to do this on a calm head, anyway. Paris, take us out and resume course as soon as Engineering decides to turn the engines back on. _Voyager_ out."

"I would apologize, Captain," said Tuvok, "but not for making the deal. I would have greatly preferred to make the deal aboveboard, but unfortunately that option was closed to us, and I felt that it was a worthwhile risk."

"I don't know whether to give you a commendation for good thinking or to throw you in the brig, Commander. I'm going to go work with Evek on our earlier discipline problem, and then we'll figure this one out."

* * *

><p>"Stadi," said Gul Evek with a polite nod as the Betazoid entered his office.<p>

"Evek. We both know why I'm here."

"We need a relationship policy."

"Fifty years from home, and two separate incidents related to idiots hitting on women badly. We need rules, clear and easily visible."

"I have several PDAs and two styluses."

"Thanks." Stadi stretched and sighed. "_So_ not what I wanted to do after my telepsychology lesson."

"I know a similar feeling," said Evek, taking a PDA and a stylus. "No time like the present, though. And at least we're not talking about the trajector incident, yet."

"True," said Stadi, grabbing her own PDA and stylus as well. "So… no dating in direct command, that's an obvious one…"

* * *

><p>Celes swept the mop across the hydroponics bay floor. Kes had accidentally spilled a bucket of Sikarian liquid fertilizer earlier and the stuff was a pain in the ass to clean up. The smelly, sticky stuff was suspended in some kind of plant oil rather than water, and, after translating the label Celes had found out that it was <em>supposed<em> to be used on dirt, not a hydroponic garden, and as a soil preparation before you planted anything, no less.

She heard heavy bootsteps off to her right. Sounded like one of the spoonheads. She looked up and recoiled. It was Marritza, sporting a split lip and a nasty shiner. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he said.

Celes supposed now was as good a time as any. Get it out of the way now, she wouldn't have to get permission to go over to the _Vetar_ later. In a grudging tone, "Dalin Marritza, sir, I—"

At the same time, Marritza started, "I came looking—" They both grunted in frustration. "This isn't going to be easy, is it," Marritza commented. "Want me to go first?" Celes nodded. "I'm sorry for my behavior earlier. I was bored and wanted to spend some time with a female and I didn't think."

"Long cruise, huh?" Celes commented sarcastically.

"Well, yes, actually," he replied, ignoring her tone. "I've served with Ocett for so long she's practically a sister, and when I took t'Aimne to your holodeck last week it was an unmitigated disaster and we decided it wouldn't work."

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm sorry for attacking you."

"Apology accepted. _Shtel_, I deserved it," he added.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Marritza nodded. "How many—"

"What, how many Bajorans have I killed?" Marritza thought for a moment. "Five, maybe? I only actually served the one tour on Bajor. I was bombardier on a _Bruja_-class gunship. Supply convoy to the command post in Kendra City got ambushed by the KLF."

"KLF?"

"'Kendra Liberation Front'," he explained. "It's what one of the Resistance groups in Kendra Province called itself. IEDs going off every which way, snipers had the guards pinned, and they called for air support, so we went."

"Why were you even there?" she asked bitterly.

"Because I was assigned there?" he said, deliberately misinterpreting the question. "I was a junior gil fresh out of officer training. I had about as much input into strategic decisions as _you_ do." He sighed. "Can we talk about something else, like what I can maybe do to help you with… whatever the _shtel_ that stuff is?"

"What, the goo on the floor? What that is is Kes not reading labels properly. Some sort of fertilizer. Here's the bucket."

He took the plastic pail and eyed the label. "Oil-based, huh? You know, it would work better if you added some soap. Hang on." He jogged over to the replicator. "A bottle of detergent."

Chirp. "Error. Dalin Hogue Marritza, replicator privileges suspended."

Celes' head whipped around and she quickly covered a bark of laughter as Marritza turned around, looking embarrassed. "Yeah, uh, Evek had about the same opinion of my behavior as Stadi apparently did of yours. I'll go steal something from Neelix's kitchen."

* * *

><p><em>Captain's Log, stardate 48645.13.<em>

_By the Dagger. _

_I did NOT need that day! _

_Relaxing shore leave my rear end—my blood pressure must've jumped fifty points and I've got a migraine. First Celes punches out a Cardassian officer for asking her out, then the Sikarians hit me in the face with the Prime Directive—which suddenly seems a LOT less reasonable now that we're on the opposite side of it—and then my first officer goes behind my back and makes a backroom deal with a corrupt politician! _

_I'm frankly worried about the rest of the trip. Discipline is only going to worsen, and I already have my sensor chief on punishment duty…_

_Deities. I can't stress myself out like this. I'll burn out too quickly. _

_I'd talk to T'pai, but we have a good working relationship; I can't compromise that by letting her into my head, showing her what I really think. And Nirymer's a good man, but when he drifts his mind is completely open; he wouldn't be able to hide any secrets he found. I'd ask Tuvok to help, but he's part of the problem in this case. _

_Oh, and speaking of problems; Ensign Suder, one of the former Maquis, apparently has latent homicidal mania and paranoid schizophrenia that only a few people knew about. Nirymer has a treatment regimen, and he seems like a decent fellow beneath the psychosis. Still a nasty shock that I didn't need. _

_Maybe I'll just go to Evek, talk it out over drinks. He's a hard man, but he's got ten times the experience that I do and he seems to be a pretty good man, too. _

_Damn. Things really have changed. I'm thinking of a Cardassian as a good man. _

_I need a drink. End log. _

* * *

><p><em>Personal log, Gul Aman Evek, Cardassian Fourth Order.<em>

_My love. _

_I have some more optimistic news this week. We met an amicable species known as the Sikarians, who were most helpful with getting us supplies and fuel. They had a technology called a spatial trajector that could have taken us halfway home in an instant. _

_Unfortunately, we ran straight into another Prime Directive. _

_Words cannot describe the headache I have, Lycoris; first my chief tac officer thinks with his gonads and gets laid out by a Bajoran woman, next the Sikarians hit us with Federation-style bureaucracy. Gil Kalar at least tried to help with the second problem: he worked with several of the Federation officers to get spatial trajectors for our ships and use them, but unfortunately the technology failed. _

_While applaud his initiative in this matter, he should not, of course, have acted without authorization. As such, I have reprimanded him. Discipline must be maintained, after all. _

_I hope that our children are faring well, and that you are not mourning me too much. I am serving Cardassia in my own way out here, after all, and I WILL be back. It may take me decades, but I will be back on Cardassia with you. _

_Your husband, _

_Aman Evek. _

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' notes, by worffan101 and StarSwordC: <strong>"Prime Factors", in our opinion, is a prime example of one of Voyager's three core storytelling problems. Rather than a terrible concept ("Threshold", "Macrocosm", "Parallax"), or a wasted opportunity for character development (every single time Harry Kim got to be the butt monkey for the writers' sadistic tendencies), it's a decent concept (Prime Directive from the other side) approached and executed extremely poorly.

**Worffan says:** It's one of those episodes, like "Scorpion", that make me want to rip out my own brain in frustration at the massive wasted potential. Here, our intent is to make the Sikarians less of shallow losers and more of a serious, realistic society. (I mean, seriously, trying to get some people who are openly devoted to getting home first and foremost to hang around as cheap laughs? And if they've got this trajector technology that can take them anywhere, why do we only see them once, and why do they need to trick people into staying on their planet for cheap laughs anyway?) Also, Gul Evek isn't going to be too concerned about Starfleet principles, and I think Stadi left a good bit of her concern for those principles back with those Kazon thugs on Ocampa Prime. This isn't early-season TNG, where they have the luxury of being perfect, borderline sanctimonious Starfleet officers without getting people killed.

The intro scene is part of an effort by StarSword and myself to change the tone of the series from "TNG lite" to "Holy cheeseballs, the Cardassians and Federation are at each others throats, and now two of their ships have gone missing in disputed space!" with a bit of home-front background to get a DS9-style image of the geopolitical ramifications of a prototype starship and a high-ranking officer of a military regime just up and vanishing.

And yes, Harry Kim is gay. That's a nod to Garrett Wang's attempt to play the character as such to make him interesting in the slightest possible way, before Berman and Braga said "nope, Harry's straight as an arrow and expresses Dull Surprise at absolutely everything he sees". Since Garrett Wang's a pretty cool dude, we decided to indulge him.

I wanted to include a reference to "The Brothers Karamazov", which is generally considered to be the perfect novel, but there wasn't a good way to work it in, so I threw in a reference to its author.

This chapter's a bit late because I had a 7-hour trip and StarSword spent most of the weekend at a con. We made it extra long to compensate. Next up: "State of Flux".

**StarSword says:** For those unfamiliar with Terran military organizations (specifically, the US military, which Starfleet is heavily based on), the reason why Celes and Marritza are getting relatively harsh punishments while Torres didn't for punching out Paris two chapters ago is twofold. Paris's comment to Torres clearly put him in the wrong, and Stadi felt that having his rib broken and nose pancaked was a suitable punishment. Also, officers tend to get off easier anyway, probably because there's way more time and money tied up in training officers and there are fewer of them to begin with, so presumably Stadi or Tuvok chewed her out offscreen and let it go at that.

In contrast, Marritza's comment to Celes wasn't particularly insensitive in and of itself (even if his choice in person to ask out leaves a lot to be desired), so despite the recent history of the Bajorans and Cardassians Celes' reaction is completely out of proportion to the offense. As Stadi alluded, if you did that in the real-life US military, they'd probably dishonorably discharge you and throw you in prison, and possibly even have you shot if it took place in a war zone. But primarily because of _Voyager_'s situation, it becomes non-judicial punishment (what Stadi referred to as "NJP"): Celes gets demoted, put on punishment detail, and chewed out (for committing assault and battery against a commissioned officer of an allied power), and Marritza gets a lecture from Evek and has privileges revoked (for being a dumbass).

There's a name-drop in Tuvok's list of authors I want to explain. I thought initially about using Homer in there but then I decided to change it to Murasaki Shikibu, an 11th century female Japanese author regarded as the first-ever novelist for _The Tale of Genji_.


	6. Revelations

**The Mysterious Case of Neelix's Lungs**

**Episode 1x6: "Revelations" by starswordc and worffan101**

**Rewrite of "State of Flux" (VOY 1x11)**

* * *

><p><strong>Main and recurring cast:<strong>

Gul Aman Evek, CO, CDS _Vetar_: Richard Poe  
>Acting Dalin Hogue Marritza, tactical officer, CDS <em>Vetar<em>: Eric Etebari  
>Gil Kalar, operations officer, CDS <em>Vetar<em>: Sean Maher  
>Glinn Nirymer, CMO and chief therapist, CDS <em>Vetar<em>: Murphy Guyer  
>Gil Daran Taril, helmsman, CDS <em>Vetar<em>: Alan Tudyk  
>Glinn Alina i'Kevratas t'Aimne, sensor officer, CDS <em>Vetar<em>: Morena Baccarin  
>Glinn Emil Tarak, security chief, CDS <em>Vetar<em>: Nathan Fillion  
>Gil Kerani Ocett, deputy security chief, CDS <em>Vetar<em>: Gina Torres

Captain Veronica Stadi, CO, USS _Voyager_: Alicia Coppola  
>Commander Tuvok, XO, USS <em>Voyager<em>: Tim Russ  
>Lieutenant Harry Kim, operations officer, USS <em>Voyager<em>: Garrett Wang  
>Lieutenant Commander T'Pai, CMO USS <em>Voyager<em>: Aly Michalka  
>Lieutenant Lindsay Ballard, ChENG USS <em>Voyager<em>: Kim Rhodes  
>Lieutenant Kepa Ayala, security chief, USS <em>Voyager<em>: Tarik Ergin  
>Lieutenant Emergency Medical Hologram, deputy CMO USS <em>Voyager<em>: Robert Picardo  
>Chief Warp Core Engineer Seska Harani, reactor chief, USS <em>Voyager<em>: Martha Hackett  
>Ensign Tom Paris, helmsmantactical officer, USS _Voyager_: Robert Duncan McNeill  
>Crewman Apprentice Celes Tal, sensor chief, USS <em>Voyager<em>: Zoe McLellan  
>Ensign Ahni Jetal, transporter officer, USS <em>Voyager<em>: Nancy Bell  
>Security Officer, Second Class Ivrahanla "Hanla" sh'Phohlhi, security noncom, USS <em>Voyager<em>: Vanessa Angel  
>Security Officer, Third Class Peter Durst, security noncom, USS <em>Voyager<em>: Brian Markinson  
>Crewman Tahel Mizrahi, USS <em>Voyager<em> security: Sarai Givaty  
>Neelix, local guide: Ethan Phillips<p>

**Guest-starring:**

Jal Culluh, First Maje of the Kazon-Nistrim: Anthony De Longis  
>Trabe commander: Christopher Lee<p>

Vice Admiral James Leyton, Chief of Starfleet Operations: Robert Foxworth  
><em>Deihu<em> Teleb i'Ra'tleihfi tr'Ethian, _Shiar i'Saeihr Rihan_ ambassador to the Federation: Terence Stamp  
>Special Agent Marion Dulmur, Federation Department of Temporal Investigations: Jack Blessing<br>Captain Jean-Luc Picard: Sir Patrick Stewart  
>Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge: LeVar Burton<br>Lieutenant Commander Worf, son of Mogh: Michael Dorn

* * *

><p>In the depths of space, a shadow moved.<p>

More shadows followed it, massive, bulky shapes surrounded by swarms of smaller, glittering gnats. A fleet of starships, emblazoned with the savage insignia of the Kazon-Nistrim.

On the bridge of the first shadow, First Maje Jal Culluh was angry.

"When do we fight?" he snarled at the Lord, hating and fearing the shadowy shape behind his throne. "When do we kill? My warriors thirst for blood!"

"Patience, Maje," chuckled the dark shape, shrouded in robes. How Culluh hated the weakling! But it was smart, he reminded himself. It was smart, and the rest of its kind were smart, and they used their smart. Attacking the Lord would be painful, even fatal.

"Bah!" snarled Culluh, settling for punching a console, sending up a shower of sparks. "I do as you command, Lord. Our warriors live to kill!"

"You will kill, Maje," assured the Lord, its calm, rich voice somehow more threatening than all of Culluh's loudest and most wrathful shouts. "We will take the intruders' ships, and then you will kill."

"What about the Ogla? The Relora? They attacked the intruders, too!"

"They were weak," snarled the Lord. "Are you not strong, Maje? Are not your warriors strong?"

"We are strong!" howled Culluh, insulted, yet still fearful. "We will kill them all!"

"Good," said the shape, stepping forward so the dim lights illuminated his smile. "They will know the wrath of the Trabe!"

* * *

><p><em>Unexplored System, Deep in the Delta Quadrant<br>__Federation Stardate 48658.2 (2 July 2371 Earth Standard)  
><em>_Cardassian Unified Date 4701.9.5/16_

"How are we doing?" asked Gul Aman Evek, sipping some root beer in his command chair.

"On schedule, my Gul," said Gil Taril, sipping a drink of his own at the helm station. "Glinn Tarak and Commander Tuvok are leading the ground crews with Neelix."

"Good. T'Aimne, anything on sensors?"

"Nothing, _rekkhai_. We're alone. Not even any natives; this planet's in a relatively early stage of development."

"Well. That is good news."

* * *

><p>"So you know this planet?" Tarak asked Neelix.<p>

"Fairly well," the Talaxian replied. "Some of the herbs on this continent are prized in Tak Tak space. Trading in them can be lucrative."

"Interesting. How about this here root?"

"Ugh," groaned Neelix, an expression of disgust on his face. "That's a leola root. It tastes like an intestinal blockage, acts as a laxative, and can be outright toxic. Wouldn't feed it to the Kazon."

"Good to know," said Tarak, throwing the offending root as far as he could.

"Well, at least we have some good, fast-growing plants," said Neelix. "Truth be told, there are better planets for food crops—hey! Don't take those fruits! They're kaylos pods!"

"Why, what's wrong?" asked the Human man, Carey, Tarak thought he was called.

"The kaylos tree is parasitic! To survive and spread in this ecosystem they only flower and reproduce when the local water source has dried up. The fruits cause the prey—herbivores—to become extremely thirsty, driving them off to find water. But the toxins react with the prey's response to drinking, and block the nerves, so the prey literally drinks itself to death. The body becomes food for more kaylos plants."

"That's… lovely," said Carey, putting the fruit very carefully on the ground and pulling out his phaser to destroy it.

"Oh, sure. Never tried it with humanoids, but hey, who would want to?"

"Maybe we should check everything with one of your fancy Starfleet tricorders before we bring it back?" Tarak suggested blandly. "It might prevent accidental poisonings."

"Hey, anybody know where Chief Seska got to?" Carey wondered. "Haven't seen her in a while."

"No, sir," a petty officer answered.

Carey hit his combadge. "Chief Seska, this is Lieutenant Carey. What's your twenty?" No answer. "Repeat, Carey to Seska, come in, please."

Neelix started panning his borrowed tricorder around, then pointed at a hillock about three hundred meters away. "I've got her combadge that way."

"I'll take a team and look for her," Ayala said. "Tarak, Mizrahi, Ghemor, sh'Phohlhi, with me."

"Yes sir," the Andorian petty officer confirmed, quickly checking the power level on her phaser and falling in with two Cardassians and another Human. "You know, I hate these things."

"What, phasers?" Ayala asked.

"_Starfleet _phasers. Horrible ergonomics, no iron sights, no trigger guard… Give me a no-frills Imperial Guard model over Starfleet supertech any day."

"Maybe I'll give you a Cardassian pistol for your birthday, sh'Phohlhi," Tarak said with a grin.

"Oh, would you? Oh, by the way, I'd rather you called me 'Hanla'."

"Cut the chatter back there."

"Sorry, L.T." Then the Andorian froze. "I heard something."

"I didn't hear anything," Mizrahi said.

She gestured at her antennae. "These aren't for decoration. There's somebody else down here."

"You sure, Hanla?" Ayala asked. Then Ayala heard the whine of multiple phasers coming from a cavern down the hill. "Never mind." He hit his combadge. "Shots fired, shots fired!"

* * *

><p>"<em>Rekkhai<em>," said t'Aimne suddenly. "I have something on sensors. A shadow, or a glitch, maybe…"

"Show me," said Evek.

"There." She pointed to a small distortion two light-seconds off _Vetar_'s starboard bow, barely perceptible unless you knew what to look for. The Romulan clicked her comm key. "T'Aimne to Celes. You getting this, _Bah'jorha_?"

"Confirm that, Alina," the _Voyager_ sensor tech answered. "Leaky cloak would be my guess; I must've seen that pattern half a dozen times in A School."

"Sound general quarters," Evek said over his shoulder to Marritza. As sirens began to wail inside the _Galor_-class vessel's corridors, _Voyager_ hummed to life alongside it. "Lock weapons and prepare to fire. Any way to tell who's out there?"

"Of course there are ways," t'Aimne answered in a vaguely contemptuous tone, focused on her monitor. "Marritza, I need you to…"

Evek stopped listening when the main comm chimed. "We're pulling up our away teams now," Stadi's voice said. "Didn't even get through lunch today."

"My apologies," Evek replied. "Would you be so kind as to retrieve my men as well? Our transporters are down for maintenance."

"Yeah, you mentioned that earlier. Jetal, get Evek's men, too!"

"Got the little son of a mogai!" crowed t'Aimne, finally locking on to the tachyon emissions. "Kazon raider, or I am Havran."

"Since when do the Kazon use cloaking devices?" Taril wondered.

"_Rekkhai_, energy buildup! They're getting ready to fire!"

"Shields up! Dalin Marritza, you may fire when ready. No finesse; main spinal mount, full charge."

"Confirmed, my Gul. Firing main spinal mount."

The _Vetar_'s spinal disruptor flared, and the Kazon ship was caught with its shields down, igniting instantly in an actinic flare of blistering light.

"Got him!" snarled the Cardassian officer.

"_Rekkhai!_" snapped t'Aimne. "I have three ships decloaking a light-second out of firing range! Kazon carriers, fighters deploying! Warp signatures visible now, more Kazon incoming!"

"Helm, get us out of here. Double support formation with _Voyager_, as practiced."

"Yessir. Paris, double support formation, you synced?"

"Check," the Human pilot replied. "Weapons running hot over here. Let's kick some Kazon ass!"

"Tuvok, take the Aeroshuttle and provide support!" ordered Stadi. "Torres said that she and her team had set it up with the Caretaker weapons and upgraded the torpedo launchers and armor. Stay near _Vetar_ and shoot anything that becomes a serious threat."

* * *

><p>"Captain," Harry Kim reported from his station, "we've got a problem dirtside." He hit a key. "Go, Ayala."<p>

"Chief Seska's pinned down in a cavern, Cap! Gunfire sounds like Kazon, not sure what sect."

"It's the Nistrim, sir," Celes said. "We've got a full attack wing coming in up here."

"_Madre de Dios_. Uh, Hanla's trying to find us a way around a couple of blockages in this cave; Seska wandered off and got lost."

"Alright," said Stadi. "We're going to have to raise shields. Stay down there; we'll pick you up after we deal with the Kazon. Paris, if they stick to standard Kazon tactics, they'll rush in as quickly as they can and start shooting randomly, usually going for strafing runs or something resembling those with those large carriers, which should let us take out vital systems."

"Yessir. Have I mentioned that it's a really good thing we have such idiotic enemies, sir?"

"Oh, probably. Evek, we're in position."

* * *

><p>"Good," the gul replied. "Marritza, commence attack pattern Lemek Beta on my mark."<p>

"Three Kazon carriers in firing range!" shouted Taril. "They're coming in in a rough pincer maneuver!"

"Interesting," Evek mused. "The Kazon-Nistrim appear to have a better sense of tactics than the Ogla or Relora. Marritza, fire at will."

The dirsuptors thrummed, and corsucating spears of light stabbed out as Taril pulled _Vetar_ sideways at half impulse.

"Kazon are firing weapons! Raiders inbound!"

"We have the raiders," called Stadi over the comm. "Attack Pattern Picard Theta!"

"Never seen a medium cruiser act as a line battleship before," muttered t'Aimne.

"Call it a Delta protocol," said Evek. "That ought to satisfy Central Command."

* * *

><p>Tuvok silently activated the Aeroshuttle nestled beneath <em>Voyager<em>'s saucer, moving swiftly but precisely through the pre-launch checklist as Tom Paris whipped the _Intrepid_-class starship through an Immelmann turn to bring the forward phasers to bear on a Kazon raider. "Tuvok to _Voyager_. Ready to detach."

"Deities guard you, Tuvok," Stadi acknowledged.

"Detaching." The delta-winged, twin-engine craft, larger than a _Danube_-class runabout but still not a true starship, "fell" from its mother into dead space. Tuvok fired the impulse drive as _Voyager_'s ventral phaser array flashed twice and blew its target to scrap. "I am detached."

Tuvok nosed the ship over and locked the new twin-linked tetryon beams with which Ballard had replaced the original single phaser array onto another raider. "Locked. Firing." Blue lances ripped through space and smashed into the beaked, yellow vessel.

Indicator lights flashed red and sparks flew from panels on either side of the cockpit. Tuvok swung the ship hard to starboard to evade return fire and with his free hand he engaged the self-repair mechanisms. _The weapons arrays draw too much for the power transfer systems. Adjust weapon power downward. Meanwhile, torpedoes._ Tuvok dropped a reticle onto the enemy ship, and the Aeroshuttle jolted as two micro-torpedoes blasted out of the tube. The first collapsed the enemy shield and the second ripped into the hull; the target's warp core blew in a single actinic burst of light.

"Ayala to _Voyager_!" the security chief's voice came through the comm, with phasers and disruptors faintly audible in the background. "We've got Chief Seska! Need dust-off now!"

"Captain Stadi," Tuvok said, "I can move in and collect them."

"Go, Tuvok! We can handle this! Paris, come right, one-one-zero!"

Tuvok pressed the stick left and the starfield swiveled to starboard, then was replaced by the view of the planet's mud-colored main continent. "Computer, calculate optimal reentry trajectory."

* * *

><p>"Fire in the hole!" Ayala threw Seska's overloaded phaser pistol overhand into a clump of Kazon and ducked back behind the wall. An echoing thunderclap from the exploding weapon half-deafened him, leaving his ears ringing from the concussion as flakes of stone rocketed past him and ricocheted off the wall. "Move, move, move!"<p>

Hanla and Tarak, each supporting one of the gut-shot Seska's arms, half-dragged the Bajoran as the party made their way to the cavern entrance, the edible mushrooms she had gone in after forgotten.

Behind them, more fire erupted. "Contact rear!" Mizrahi barked, returning fire with her phase compression rifle. She hit one Kazon center-of-mass and blew him apart; the others ducked back behind cover as gore spattered the cavern walls.

Then they were outside. More blue gunfire erupted from the hillside and Mizrahi went down, howling in pain. Hanla snatched the fallen crewman's rifle and sprayed the hilltop on full auto while pulling her behind a tree.

"Ayala, this is Tuvok. I am one minute out."

"Move your pointy-eared backside!" Ayala shouted back. "We're pinned down!"

"Please paint a target for me."

Hanla passed her rifle to Ayala and he started blazing away inaccurately with both weapons, nevertheless sending the Kazon diving for cover as the _shen_ programmed her tricorder. "Target marked, Commander."

"Firing."

The away team faintly heard the sound of thrusters and the _plink_ of torpedoes leaving the tube in atmo, then two red-orange bolts shrieked in almost faster than the eye could follow and a fireball leapt skyward from the hillside, spraying the air with soil, smoke, tree fragments, and bits of Kazon. The enemy fire abruptly ceased—

—and then with an electrical tingle they were in the Aeroshuttle's cabin.

"About time you showed up, Vulcan," Ayala said, relieved. "Thanks."

"No one gets left behind. Tuvok to _Voyager_, I have them. Chief Seska and Crewman Mizrahi are wounded. I am returning to base."

"Watch yourself, sir," Celes answered. "Four Kazon fighters just broke off from the orbital battle, headed for air. And there are more capital ships minutes out."

"Despite our technical advantage we cannot keep this up forever," Tuvok said, yanking back hard on the stick and pitching the shuttle skyward. "I propose we make maximum warp immediately."

"We'll stay in it until you break atmo," Stadi agreed, "then jump for orbit of the fifth planet, that ice giant in the outer system. We'll pick you up and bug out."

Tuvok spotted the Kazon fighters as he passed 18 kilometers altitude. He heeled the Aeroshuttle to port to evade their fire; still, two blue lances struck his starboard shields. Then an indicator flicked from red to green. "Power systems repaired," the rough female voice of the computer announced.

"Here's where the fun begins," Ayala commented, still holding pressure on Seska's wound. He'd sedated the injured woman. Beside him Hanla and Tarak were starting an IV on Mizrahi.

Tuvok adjusted the inertial dampeners and threw the Aeroshuttle back to starboard, and spaceward, and dropped the main guns onto the lead ship. The sequential beeping changed to a constant tone and he pressed the thumb trigger. Twin bolts of lightning snapped through the air and crashed into the Kazon fighter; a fireball lit up the sky and debris struck sparks from Tuvok's shields.

Tuvok corkscrewed past the enemy ships, disengaged the thrusters, then flipped the ship over and triggered the impulse drive in reverse as the Kazon tried to turn around. The tetryon beams fired twice more and another fighter spun out and wiped out its wingman, then fell out of the sky missing a wing, its engines in flames.

The Vulcan flipped the ship again and shut down the impulse drive, reengaging the thrusters and burning hard for the black, where he could faintly see the glitter of beams in blue, orange and red, the sharp flashes of torpedoes, the occasional larger flash from a detonating ship.

"Computer, are we at minimum safe distance?"

"Confirmed."

"Tuvok to Stadi, you may disengage at your leisure. Computer, lay in a course for the fifth planet. Maximum warp."

"Course locked."

"Engage." The Aeroshuttle pitched forward and wheeled to starboard, then blurred into the distance and was gone.

* * *

><p>"I gotta hand it to you, Tuvok, that was some of the best flying I've ever seen," Paris complimented the Vulcan. <em>Voyager<em> was sprinting for deep space, and they stood in the infirmary observation area along with Captain Stadi, watching T'Pai, the EMH, and two nurses working on Seska, while that Lethean, Nirymer, and two of the Cardassians struggled to repair the damage to Crewman Mizrahi.

"The Aeroshuttle handles quite well in atmosphere, much better than any of our other craft. Do you know the prognoses for the patients?"

"Well, I'm no doctor, but T'Pai knows her stuff. Our girls'll pull through."

T'Pai and the Doctor straightened, then pulled a sheet up over Seska's chest. T'Pai shucked her apron, gloves, and mask, throwing them in the recycler, and opened the door to the operating theater. "We have a problem."

Stadi started, "Don't tell me—"

"No, Captain, I have repaired the worst of the damage. But Seska lost much blood to an intestinal hemorrhage. We have replicated plasma but she needs red cells."

"All right, what's her type? We'll check with the crew, starting with Celes."

The Doctor shook his head. "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Captain. Seska never submitted a blood sample into the computer system when she came aboard, and our analysis of the sample we took indicates she has none of the common Bajoran blood types."

"What are you saying?" Paris asked. "That she's not Bajoran?"

"Potentially worse." T'Pai turned back to the window. "I have reason to suspect that Chief Petty Officer Seska Harani was in fact born Cardassian."

* * *

><p>"Where? Where is the Weapon? Where is the assurance of our victory?"<p>

First Maje Jal Culluh was howling with rage again. The Lord was angry as well, although Culluh was too busy throwing his tantrum to notice.

"You," growled the Trabe, his deep, rich voice thrumming as he gestured at a Kazon near the communications station. "Why did we not receive communications from the ship equipped with the new weapons? They were supposed to arrive from the fifth planet twenty minutes ago!"

"How should I know?" asked the Kazon. "I dunno how to use this thing."

"Useless oaf," snapped the Trabe. The bridge went silent; even Culluh stopped ranting. "This is why we Trabe are superior! You pathetic Kazon cannot be bothered to know your own duty!"

He flung his long, floppy sleeve at the unfortunate Kazon, and he disintegrated in blue light without even a scream.

Unbeknownst to the other Kazon, their comrade had been merely transported directly into the warp core's plasma stream, where he was incinerated in a nanosecond, but they didn't need to know that.

"YOU!" thundered the Trabe, pointing at another Kazon, this one with a knife half-strapped to his belt. "Why did we not receive communications from the weapon ship?"

This Kazon, actually the one who had been at the communications station (although he had just enough intelligence to not say so), hurried over to said station and checked it.

"Lord, the last communication is from just before the attack commenced! They were going to test-fire the Weapon!"

"What? No! Impossible! Maje Culluh! Marshal your ships! We will attack again, and this time we will take them!"

* * *

><p>"By Cardassia. You're serious, aren't you, Stadi?"<p>

"I'm afraid I am, Evek. I'm going to need _your_ crew to donate blood to Seska."

The Lethean's mouth twisted, baring his tusks further to unsettling effect. "I can get you a list of candidates based on this data—"

"Let's back up a minute. How the _shtel_ did a Cardassian end up looking like—" Evek froze in mid-sentence and snapped his fingers. "Son of a vole."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The Obsidian Order."

"Who?"

"The Union's civilian intelligence and, _ahem_, internal security apparatus. Most _distasteful_ people, and there have been a couple well-publicized instances of them using surgically altered operatives in deep cover assignments."

Stadi flashed on a brief she'd read on her way to Deep Space 9, how the Cardies had once kidnapped the Bajoran Militia XO, Major Kira, and tried to convince her she was really a deep-cover agent who'd gone native. "An infiltrator? Seska was Maquis, that actually makes sense."

"Captain," Ayala said disbelievingly, "Harani must've saved our necks half a dozen times, including an hour ago when she took a phaser blast meant for me. Would a spoonhead do that?" Then he glanced over at Evek. "Sorry, sir."

Stadi glared at the security chief but Evek ignored the slur; he'd heard it before. "If she believed it important in maintaining her cover, I'm sure she would!"

"I believe we are straying from the main point," Tuvok put in. "As first officer of _Voyager_ it is my duty to speak for the crew, and under the Uniform Code of Military Justice Seska is entitled to speak in her defense and is presumed innocent of wrongdoing until proven guilty. Which she may not be if we do not obtain for her a Cardassian blood transfusion."

Evek paused, then nodded. "Send the data over. With luck one of the crew members still aboard your ship will be a match. T'Aimne says the Kazon don't _seem_ to be pursuing, but I don't want to drop out of warp to beam anyone over until we're sure." Evek's image on the screen winked out.

Ayala and Tuvok walked out of the captain's ready room, with Ayala grumbling, "You were Starfleet, she's a Cardassian. Was _anybody_ on that ship besides me a Maquis?"

* * *

><p>Pain. That was the first thing Seska Harani felt. A throbbing pain in her abdomen, dulled by medication but still there. She opened her eyes but all she could see for a moment was a blur. Gradually people swam into focus and she figured out where she was: <em>Voyager<em>'s sickbay.

She looked around. An olive-skinned, blonde security E-3, Tahel Mizrahi she thought her name was, lay asleep in the bed next to her.

Then she processed that Kepa Ayala and that Andorian, Ivrahanla sh'Phohlhi, were among the crew in the room, and that both had their hands on holstered phasers.

"What's going on?" Seska asked.

"How are you feeling?" Captain Stadi asked.

"Like I got shot in the stomach. What's with the guns?"

"You're the Cardassian," Ayala said. "Why don't you tell me?"

Seska's jaw fell open. "Cardassian? What in the name of the Prophets are you talking about?"

"Your blood type is Cardassian TZ-4," T'Pai said.

"That? That's nothing!" she scoffed, laughed, and started coughing. The white-coated Vulcan quickly ran over and made a pass with a tricorder, then smoothly snatched a hypospray off the wall and touched it to Seska's jugular; she slowly stopped coughing. "Thanks, Doctor. Can you raise the bed a bit?" T'Pai pressed a control and the backrest lifted until Seska could sit up without hurting herself.

She turned her head back to Ayala. "It was during the Occupation. I was about five. Orkett's Plague ran through the camp in Wyntara Mas Province; thousands of us died. One of the guards' wives took pity on me and convinced her husband to let her give me a bone marrow transplant. Saved my life."

"Is that possible, sir?" the Andorian asked.

"Plausible, even," T'Pai answered. There are enough similarities between Bajoran and Cardassian immune systems to make the anti-rejection treatments effective." Hanla relaxed slightly, her hand leaving the butt of her pistol.

Seska coughed again. "Where'd you get the blood?"

"Me," Gil Ocett said from a chair in the corner, looking up from a PADD. One of her sleeves was rolled up and she had a mark on the inside of her elbow. "I was over here teaching a hand-to-hand combat class when the Kazon showed up."

"Thanks. I owe you."

"Pff. Teach me how to make that mushroom soup of yours and we'll call it even."

"When can I go back to work, sir?"

"I will keep you overnight for observation but you are healing well," T'Pai answered. "You can go back to light duty tomorrow. No heavy lifting, and you will delegate any tasks requiring you to work on the reactor mechanisms."

"So I'm flying a desk." T'Pai nodded; Seska sighed.

"Evek to Stadi," came the Gul's voice over the com. Stadi slapped her combadge.

"Stadi here."

"You need to see this. There's a Kazon ship up ahead sending a mayday, and Glinn t'Aimne is getting some suspicious readings."

"Change course to intercept."

"Sir, are you _nuts_?" Ayala exclaimed. "We just got away from the Kazon and now we're flying to the rescue?"

"Lieutenant, you were Maquis, but this is a Starfleet ship and we're required by Federation law to respond to all distress signals in peacetime. _However_," the Betazoid added, holding up a finger to forestall comment, "there's no harm in being prepared. Get an armed boarding party together." She hit her combadge again. "All hands, battle stations."

* * *

><p>Blue and yellow lights flashed and glittered and five Cardassians and seven Starfleet crew members materialized in radsuits inside the cramped corridors of a Kazon vessel. "The life signs Celes picked up were this way," Ayala said, his voice distorted by his breather speaker. He flicked switch on the flashlight clipped to his rifle and the corridor lit up.<p>

"Emergency power's on," Ocett added. "Tricorder says the air's badly contaminated. Nadions, mesons, heavy elements." She lowered it and clipped it to her belt, raising her disruptor rifle and taking point. "Move out."

The squad advanced by fire and movement down the corridor and hung a right into what was probably a weapons bay. "I got bodies," Hanla said. "What in the name of—"

Several Kazon sporting severe radiation burns lay strewn about the room, surrounding a long metal tube that extended into the forward bulkhead. "What the hell is this?" Ayala breathed.

"Some kind of gun, probably," Ocett said. "Marritza might know more."

"Well, it's the source of all this radiation, and I can tell you this much," Peter Durst said. "Far as I know, this ODN line configuration is _only_ used by the Federation."

Before Ayala could express the profanity that leapt to his tongue, Hanla shouted, "L.T., over here! This one's still alive!"

"Ayala to _Voyager_, we've got a survivor. Beam us directly to sickbay."

* * *

><p>"How bad is he?" Stadi asked over the intercom.<p>

"Bad," T'Pai answered her. "Fortunately, the EMH has been able to adapt our radiation sickness treatments to Kazon physiology. He will recover."

"Good, we need him to tell us how the hell the Kazon got ahold of Federation technology. Stadi out." She turned towards Tuvok in her ready room chair. "Do you have any idea what that thing they found is?"

"Based on the tricorder readings I suspect it was a variant of a phaser pulse cannon of the type carried by the _Defiant_-class. The Kazon did not use enough shielding or focusing coils on the collimator stage and it misfired, irradiating the interior of the vessel."

"By Cardassia, how did they get one of those?" Evek wondered aloud.

"There are only three alternatives I can discern at this time. One, it is not Federation technology at all but something similar. However, based on the extreme degree of similarity in the ODN connections as noted by Petty Officer Durst, I find this unlikely.

"Two," he continued. "Another Federation starship may have been brought to the Delta Quadrant prior to our arrival, and they interacted with the Kazon-Nistrim."

"Computer, were any other ships ever reported missing in the Badlands under similar circumstances to ours?"

The intercom chirped. "USS _Equinox_ NCC-72381, _Nova_-class. Contact lost stardate 48208.9. USS _Liberation_ NCC-42061, _Centaur_-class. Contact lost stardate 44257.2."

Evek looked inquiringly at Stadi but she shook her head. "A _Nova_-class is a planetary survey ship, barely armed well enough to defend itself. The captain wouldn't have had the need-to-know to have that information."

"What about the _Liberation_?"

"No, they didn't even think of building the _Defiant_-class until the year after that. It was a reaction to Wolf 359."

Tuvok nodded. "Three. Someone from this ship has covertly given technology to the Kazon."

"Aiding the enemy?" Evek said disbelievingly. "Where I come from that's a capital offense."

"Yes, we have a similar opinion of that. I don't like that scenario at all, Commander."

"Nevertheless, it is the most probable explanation. It may not be a coincidence that the Kazon ships we encountered at the planet were able to deceive our sensors. Perhaps someone transmitted instructions to them before we arrived."

Then the intercom chimed. "Captain," Celes said from her console, "I've got a Kazon battle group at extreme sensor range!"

Stadi hit her comm. "Ensign Jetal, beam Gul Evek back to his ship! We're about to have company!"

* * *

><p>"The interlopers have found the Weapon!" Culluh cried.<p>

"I will command this attack myself," growled the Lord, striding forwards. "All vessels, this is your Lord. Attack the pathetic filth in the following pattern. Do not deviate from it without my express command, or I will destroy you myself!"

He turned, looking at Maje Culluh, who bowed grudgingly.

"You, Maje. Prepare an attack shuttle with ten of your finest warriors. The Kazon-Nistrim will have the glory of first blood on the puny interlopers!"

Despite his fear and hatred of the Lord, Culluh bared his rotting teeth in a ghastly smile.

* * *

><p>"Kazon vessels moving to attack," t'Aimne reported.<p>

"Marritza, attack pattern Macet One. Taril, cover _Voyager_."

"Tuvok to _Vetar_. The Aeroshuttle is detached. I will attempt to use your shadow for cover."

"Good. Stay safe there, Vulcan; these Kazon seem to be marginally smarter than the ones we've met before."

"Evek, this is Stadi. We're set for the attack, torpedoes loaded for full spread, max yield."

"Acknowledged. The Kazon are using what appears to be a pincer movement; Taril, evasive maneuvers at your discretion. Don't get pinned down."

"Kazon in range in 5 seconds!" said t'Aimne.

"Marritza, fire at your leisure."

"Yes, sir. Targeting Kazon… Kazon in range!"

The spinal mount fired, obliterating a raider, but four massive carriers closed in, surrounded by close to fifty raiders and a hundred fighters.

"Sustaining fire!" snapped Kalar from the Ops station. "Shields at 80%!"

"Damn," observed Evek. "They're smarter than the others, indeed. Get me a high-yield torpedo on that carrier and set the beams to fire at will."

"Firing, my Gul!"

The Kazon carrier's shields flickered, and its hull cracked as the torpedo crashed into the ship. Raiders surrounding it burned under blistering fire from two cruisers, but more raiders and three undamaged carriers moved in.

"Taking evasive action!" shouted Taril, throwing _Vetar_ into a combination "backwards" flip and barrel roll. Kazon torpedoes streaked by mere tens of meters away, and a pack of fighters was caught in the crossfire and the explosion of a raider.

* * *

><p>Commander Tuvok dropped the targeting reticle over a raider, depressed the trigger, and watched it vaporize. The computer pinged, and he threw the Aeroshuttle into a tight loop, slipping in between the Cardassian and Federation ships as <em>Vetar<em> spun in space. He fired a spread of micro-torpedoes, and a half-dozen fighters blazed.

"Tuvok, that lead carrier took a good hit from _Vetar_! I'm going to try to take it down, keep the Kazon off of our rears!"

"Acknowledged," Tuvok confirmed as Stadi launched a spread of torpedoes and a volley of phaser pulses at the Kazon capital. The Vulcan slipped into the rear arc of a Kazon raider and opened fire, hitting its engine ports and causing a short-circuit that blew out the warp core.

The Kazon carrier blazed and exploded as its warp core breached.

"Got the bastard!" snarled Stadi. "Evek, our shields are down to fifty percent, a little help here?"

"Our shields are down to fifteen percent! Hang in there, Stadi, Taril's trying to get around this carrier but we have a pack of raiders after us!"

"Tuvok, go to support him!"

"On my way," Tuvok replied, rolling swiftly to avoid a Kazon torpedo.

He'd just made it around the prow of one of the three remaining carriers as it lumbered to reorient when he saw a lightning-fast, dart-like craft streak out from a hangar bay and embed itself in _Vetar_'s hull near the Bridge.

* * *

><p>"What in Cardassia was that?" snarled Gul Evek, pulling out his disruptor just in case.<p>

"Something hit us, sir! Breached the shields, embedded in the hull out in the corridor!"

"Enemy ships are breaking off, _rekkhai_! They're headed for _Voyager_!"

Then the intercom crackled. "This is Garresh Agrin! Intruder alert, command deck! ARGH!"

"Defensive positions!" snapped Evek. No sooner had he said this than the door was hit by something large and heavy. He hit the comm. "Evek to _Voyager_, we've been boarded! Alert your security teams!"

T'Aimne bolted for the bridge replicator—Evek reminded himself to have a talk to the crew about being armed and sensible precautions—and started tapping something in rapidly. Kalar, Taril, Marritza, and Evek all took their positions with disruptors readied.

A spot on the door started to glow cherry-red, then sparks started to spray through as the Kazon took a plasma torch to the door.

* * *

><p>In sickbay the intercom crackled. "All hands, this is the captain. Prepare to repel boarders, repeat, prepare to repel boarders."<p>

Seska shifted in her bed, looking over at T'Pai, who was running a tricorder over their Kazon captive. "Ocett," she said to the Cardassian security officer. "I need a weapon."

"You sure? You're not in the best of shape."

"You think the Kazon'll care?"

Ocett grunted and stepped out into the corridor, pressing a key on a suddenly lit panel. A wall section swiveled open and phaser rifles and pistols came into view. She grabbed an armload of them down off the wall and brought them into sickbay, handing a rifle and pistol each to Seska and T'Pai. "Hope you can shoot as well as you handle a laser scalpel, Doctor."

"I earned four ribbons for marksmanship at Starfleet Academy."

"That's the Academy. This is reality."

* * *

><p>On the viewscreen, a stricken Kazon raider hit one of the two remaining carriers amidships, puncturing through its hull and setting off secondary explosions, the titanic ship reeling and buckling as it died.<p>

Gul Evek didn't have the attention to spare as the Kazon shoved their way through the new hole in his bridge's blast doors.

"Har, har, har!" snorted a Kazon carrying a plasma torch like a weapon as he entered. "Bow before the technology of our—"

Evek's shot drilled him between the eyes.

"Why'd you let him talk, sir?" shouted Kalar as the Cardassians fired a volley, dropping two more Kazon as the others shoved their way in. Return fire went over their heads and several consoles exploded.

"Savoring the moment!"

Marritza opened fire, spraying the corridor with his disruptor rifle on full auto. Four of the Kazon were smart enough to duck for cover, but the blitz still caught three others in its cone, burning them as they died.

"It's the expressions on their faces that are the most amusing," Evek yelled as his tactical officer ducked down again to evade a Kazon volley that splashed against the wall, damaging the ship's dedication plaque. "Sons of voles! That plaque's been up there undamaged for five straight years!"

A Kazon with a more ornate uniform ducked around the corner, spraying fire and forcing the other crew members behind cover. He threw something in a tight arc and Evek felt a sharp pain in his cheek, hearing something clatter against the wall behind him. Then the Kazon fired his phaser and Evek fell backwards, his shoulder on fire. "Somebody get that one!"

Then Evek heard the singing sound of steel whistling through the air and a wet crunch, and the Kazon's head went past him.

T'Aimne stood behind the trunk as it fell, brandishing a curved sword over half as long as her whole body. "_Ishae'e h'rau Areinnye'ri, ataen Kaezan!_" she snarled, kicking the dead Kazon for good measure before spinning, parrying the next warrior's phaser into the wall as he brought it to bear, and planting her boot in his groin; the warrior folded in half and she brought the pommel of her sword down on the back of his head.

The three remaining Kazon gaped. One managed "Whoa, she took out—" before Taril's disruptor hit him in the chest. Another was hit by a snap shot from Kalar and crumpled, and t'Aimne opened the third from shoulder to hip with a whirling slash before pivoting and burying half a meter of steel in his torso.

"Excellent bladework there, Glinn," said Gul Evek mildly as the Romulan pulled the sword back out of the Kazon's chest. "Now, if one of you would be so good as to help me up so that I can go to the infirmary? My shoulder is quite badly burned."

* * *

><p>A series of loud bangs issued from somewhere nearby, both forward and above, Seska thought. Metal and ceramic shrieked and tore and the ship shook. "Are we hit?" Seska wondered aloud.<p>

The intercom came to life again. "Enemy boarders, decks one, two and five, saucer aft! Security teams, converge!"

Deck 5. Sickbay. They were nearby. She quickly checked the charge on her gun and slid off the bed, wincing at the pain. But she couldn't add any more painkillers, not without dulling her reactions.

She heard somebody yell and a blue beam crossed the corridor outside. A body hit the floor. Then Kazon came into view and she fired; the Kazon crumpled. Another stuck its head around briefly and Ocett fired; she missed, and the head withdrew.

Then a Kazon arm whipped into view, throwing something. "Grenade!" Ocett barked. T'Pai threw herself across the unconscious Kazon captive as Seska jumped across her hospital bed, and ducked down.

A thunderous, deafening bang. All Seska could hear was an irritating ringing sound. She poked her head up. There was a scorch mark on the floor and some equipment had been tossed about, but no worse damage. Stun grenade.

Then a Kazon stuck its face into her vision, snarling something she couldn't hear and grabbing her by the shoulder, pulling her against his reeking body.

She lashed out, stamping on his instep with her heel and smashing the heels of her hands against his ears. It reeled back and she punched him in the neck, feeling something give way, then planted a foot in his chest and pushed him back.

Seska snatched the Kazon's pistol, spun and fired at one that was pulling at Ocett's breastplate, blowing a hole into his back; he went down. Ocett said something Seska couldn't make out and then flicked a switch on her disruptor and sprayed the corridor, blowing fist-size holes in the wall. With her other hand she fiddled with something on the Federation phaser pistol she'd borrowed and threw it out the door. "Get down!" Seska faintly heard her yell.

A blinding flash issued from the corridor as the overloading phaser went off.

All was quiet.

Then the Kazon in the bed reared up and swung something at the back of Ocett's head. Seska tried to bring her pistol around but the Kazon was faster, and the Cardassian yelped in pain. Then T'Pai reached out and took hold of the prisoner's neck and he went limp.

Seska wiped sweat off on her sleeve and let out a relieved breath. "Some fight, eh, Ocett?" She turned to look at the Cardassian and froze. "What in the name of the Prophets are you doing?"

Ocett, blood trickling down her face, had her pistol leveled unerringly at Seska's heart as she growled, "You tell me, _spy_."

* * *

><p>"NNNOOOOOOO!" howled the Lord after the away team reported, slamming his fist into a console, accidentally cracking the duraglass coating. "The Weapon has failed! Interminable, incompetent fools! Our source must have betrayed us!"<p>

The Kazon ducked and tried to look small as the Trabe snarled angrily and turned with a swish of his cape. "Three carriers and dozens of raiders lost, all for a miserable failure! Damnable fools! Maje Culluh! Sound the retreat. You may yet salvage some dignity from this spectacle of your incompetence."

"Yes, Lord," growled Maje Culluh. "Kazon-Nistrim! Retreat! Obey the Lord!"

More raiders died on the viewscreen as _Voyager_ and its auxiliary craft continued firing, and the Cardassian warship began to fire again; clearly, the boarding parties had failed.

Maje Jal Culluh ground his rotten teeth in rage. He _would_ have his revenge. "Hard about! Warp 7!"

* * *

><p>"She's Cardassian, sir."<p>

Gil Ocett still held her disruptor on Seska as T'Pai stood behind her running a dermal regenerator over the cut the Kazon prisoner had given her with his stolen scalpel. The wound was superficial at worst but head wounds always bled like crazy. "I saw her fight, my Gul. She uses classical _chakar daran_."

"Are you certain?" Evek had his uniform off and stood there in a silk shirt, prescribed to ease the strain on his burn.

"Sir, I am ranked _zaal'tak_ in _chakar daran_. I know what I'm talking about. It looks a lot like Starfleet's Krav Maga but there are differences. She uses _our_ martial art, and she's been professionally trained."

"I can confirm," the EMH added. "In regards to your Orkett's plague story, a doctor less informed about Bajoran medicine might have been fooled, but my program includes complete studies on Bajoran pathophysiology. There's no way any childhood virus or Cardassian bone marrow transplant can explain away the genetic markers in your blood. You are Cardassian, Chief Seska."

Stadi turned to the Bajoran, arms crossed. "Well, Seska? If that's even your real name."

Seska let out a breath and nodded. "It's my real surname, yes. My given name's Jiana."

"And you're Obsidian Order, aren't you," Evek growled. It wasn't a question.

"Of _course_ I am, Gul Evek," she answered in a contemptuous tone. She shifted on the bed and winced. "Little foggy from the painkillers or I would've remembered not to use recognizable moves. Funny how your brain defaults to—"

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot you here and now. You gave the Kazon Federation weapons."

"No, they only _thought_ I was giving them Federation weapons. What I _gave_ them was an amusing way to commit suicide."

"I beg your pardon?" Stadi queried.

"Well, I thought it was a good plan," said Seska, perhaps a touch snippily. "The Kazon are the biggest threat to us at the moment, but despite that they're abject idiots. They've never shown any sign of being anything but an embarrassment to warp-capable species in general, so I figured just give them a doctored file with the plans for a weapon that only a non-idiot would be able to install and fix, and they'd fight each other into submission over it and stay out of our hair for a while. I didn't think that they'd actually build and install the thing!"

"So you deliberately low-balled how much radiation shielding they'd need," Ocett said.

Seska nodded. "And a few other things, like overload control subroutines."

"All right," Stadi allowed. "What about the cloaking device?"

Seska shrugged. "That wasn't me; I got nothing." Stadi looked unconvinced. "What, you think I'd intentionally give them information they could actually _use_? I may be amoral by your standards, Starfleet, but I'm not an _idiot_."

* * *

><p>"What do we do, sir?" asked Ocett.<p>

"Probably keep her where she is," said Stadi speculatively. "She's not stupid: we're her best shot at getting home to Cardassia simply because we're the ones she understands the most, and the ones most interested in rapidly returning to the Alpha Quadrant already."

"She's Obsidian Order. She lies for a living."

"And Commander Tuvok is Starfleet Intelligence," the Betazoid pointed out. "Can you say for certain that they're any different?"

"Starfleet Intelligence isn't typically aimed at loyal soldiers," Ocett retorted in a sardonic tone.

"Gil Ocett?" Evek said mildly, and his officer subsided. "Captain Stadi, I have no great love for the Obsidian Order, but—"

"Yeah. Her plan was reckless but it worked: she killed a bunch of Kazon without firing a shot. Of course, the attack is a serious setback—initial repair estimates for _Voyager_ are at least a week."

"And two for _Vetar_, plus I have sixteen men in various stages of injury, including Agrin, who's going to be out of comission for a week and on light duty for a month on Nirymer's orders."

"Ten wounded, one dead," Stadi said sadly. "Security Officer Durst went to help Sickbay and took one in the head."

"My condolences."

Stadi accepted the sentiment without comment. "On the plus side, those carriers are so big that they aren't completely atomized in a warp core breach; there are some pretty big bits and pieces that we can salvage. Duranium and such; it wouldn't be much, it's Kazon tech, after all, but I'm sure it could be good for something."

"My men are already salvaging some materials," Evek noted. "They say that they would be useful if cycled through one of the industrial replicators. With time we may be able to add additional armor plating and perhaps even some more shuttlecraft to our roster. At the very least we can fix the structural damage we incurred."

"Smart," Stadi agreed, nodding along. "Anyway, I think getting injured may help Seska rethink her recklessness. I know you don't want her, but we need every warm body we can get, and Seska's skills could come in useful. I mean, quite apart from the extra eyes on intelligence, she's actually a pretty good engineer according to Ballard."

"Inconvenient, but true," Evek agreed.

"Well, Tuvok's locked her out of classified areas of the computer memory. Nobody said this would be a pleasure cruise."

"Indeed. Gil, you may return to the _Vetar_ at your leisure. Captain, if you will excuse me, I have a prisoner to interrogate."

"I don't want to know," Stadi said, holding up a hand.

"Then don't ask."

* * *

><p>Kret woke up to blinding white light.<p>

"Ah, good, you're awake," said a polite, calm voice. "How many lights do you see?"

"What?" the Kazon groggily answered.

"'What' is not a number. How many lights?"

"What?"

"Say 'what' again. Say 'what' again, if you dare."

"Wha—" Then there was a high-pitched whine and Kret's body was ablaze with pain.

Kret couldn't help it. He screamed like a woman.

After what seemed like an eternity, the pain faded. A face swam into his vision. Pale, scaly, with graying black hair, one of the strangers who called themselves 'Cardassians'.

"I am Gul Aman Evek of the Cardassian Fourth Order. You will tell me what I want to know, or… well, let's just say that even with a Federation jury, you are not going to escape punishment for your crimes. Talk, and I kill you quickly and painlessly. Refuse… and I shan't kill you _at all_."

"Who are you?" asked Kret hoarsely, trying to haul himself up but failing; he was restrained somehow, strapped to a table. "I'm a Kazon-Nistrim! I'll kill you and skin you alive and beat you up! Everybody knows the intruders are weak fools who let a slave command a ship! I'll kill you!"

"I already gave my name and position, Kazon, but in addition let me say that I am a man who is quite insulted by your repeated attempts to best us. Now. Who installed that experimental weapon on your ship?"

* * *

><p><em>Personal log, Gul Aman Evek, Cardassian Fourth Order:<em>

_The Trabe. _

_We have a name, my love, for the Kazons' heretofore mysterious backers. Don't ask how I got the name, it was rather messy. _

_We were attacked by the Kazon today. Fortunately no fatalities, but it was a close-run thing. It is extremely lucky that our foes were not more intelligent. Likely with a Trabe leader: they used actual tactics, albeit simplistic ones, and successfully boarded _Vetar_. Gil Taril, Gil Kalar, and Dalin Marritza were all quite effective in repelling the raid. Also Glinn t'Aimne killed two Kazon with a sword, which I must presume was very therapeutic. _

_We've found the token Obsidian Order spy, but she wasn't on _my _ship. Seska Harani, a Maquis that Stadi made reactor chief, was actually Jiana Seska, a deep-cover operative surgically altered to appear Bajoran. Enabran Tain and his tired old tricks. Then again, old tricks are old for a reason—they work. _

_We will make external repairs first, a process that should take only a few days, especially with salvaged wreckage to help patch breaches, and work on the internal damage while at warp for the remainder of our scheduled repair time. On the plus side, we have a nearby planet with much edible life, so we should survive well enough. _

_Stay safe, my love. _

_Your husband, _

_Aman Evek. _

* * *

><p><em>Captain's log, stardate 48660.4.<em>

_All right, so I may have been a bit more confident in front of Evek than I really feel. _

_I've talked with Seska, and we've agreed that she may resume normal duties as allowed by T'Pai provided that she be attended by a rotating guard. She was quite accommodating after being outed as an Obsidian Order spy; hopefully, she will be trustworthy, despite being dangerously amoral. _

_I'm going to discuss this in-depth with Tuvok, but he has supported my judgement thus far. Deities, I hope I made the right choice. _

_Evek found out the name of the Kazon's backers (which we sent out on a broadband frequency towards Vidiian and Sikarian space as a rotating message for several hours) from the captured Kazon, who was tried and executed Cardassian-style for piracy. Evek isn't a particularly cruel man; he shot the Kazon in the head, nice and clean, if stark to my eyes. It was helpful, I suppose, that the Kazon was a disgusting sort, unapologetic and vicious to the last. Deep inside I know I _shouldn't _approve of that but… I hate them. I've been inside their heads and I hate them._

_Deities. What is wrong with this crazy quadrant? Idiots, blobs, hedonists, and hedgehogs. _

_All right, that's a bit unfair to Neelix; he's a nice guy and a decent cook. It's not like he appointed himself supreme overlord of the kitchen and forced people to eat that leola root he and one of the Cardassians were laughing about earlier. _

_Anyway, I have to go meet with Tuvok and Ayala to arrange funeral proceedings for Petty Officer Durst. End log. _

* * *

><p><em>Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco, California<br>__Federation Stardate 48739.31 (3 August 2371 Earth Standard)_

"Admiral Leyton? The Romulan ambassador, Senator tr'Ethian, is here to see you. He says it's important."

"How important, Ensign?" Leyton asked his secretary, looking up from a brief.

"Well, a Special Agent Dulmur from DTI is here, too, so—"

Now Leyton was just confused. "What in the world do the timecops want?"

"I have no idea, sir. Shall I send them in?"

"By all means. Pfeh, this ought to be good," he added to himself in a not-quite-sarcastic tone. The door opened and a gaunt, balding white-haired Romulan in emerald-colored formal robes walked in, followed by a strawberry blond man in a business suit, both wearing visitor badges. "Ambassador tr'Ethian. This is an unexpected pleasure."

"_Shaoi kon_, _Erei'Enriov_ Leyton," the Romulan answered in High Rihan, sketching a formal bow.

"Special Agent Marion Dulmur, Department of Temporal Investigations," the human introduced himself.

"So I've heard," Leyton acknowledged. "Can I offer either of you a drink?" he asked, getting up and going over to the sideboard. "I don't have any ale, but—"

Dulmur waved him off, but, switching to Federation Standard, tr'Ethian answered, "Scotch, neat, if you have it. I have some good news for you, Admiral."

"Oh? I could use some of that after the loss of the _Enterprise_ last week." He stepped back to his desk and passed a glass of amber liquor across to the Romulan.

"My condolences on that, by the way, Admiral. I met Captain Picard once at a state dinner several years ago. Good man. If you would, pass him my regrets on that unfortunate business with _Riov_ Sela a few years back, and on the loss of his ship." The ambassador reached into his robe, retrieved an object, and placed it on the desk.

Leyton was more confused by the minute. That was a Federation secure data card, high-density storage, encryption nearly unbreakable, but the indicator said the card was barely two percent full and the encryption had never been turned on. "What is this?"

"That requires some background. A little over twenty years ago we had a scout vessel commanded by one Telek R'Mor patrolling our western border in Sector 1385."

"North of Breen space, correct?"

"Indeed. We had had reports of raids on several of our colonies in the region. That, _ahem_, situation has since been resolved—I cannot discuss the details, of course—"

"Of course." The Romulans always played their cards close to the vest.

The ambassador continued, "_Riov_ R'Mor and the two warbirds that responded to his call for reinforcements reported to ch'Rihan the discovery of a micro-wormhole, and contact with a Federation starship on the far side. It was your missing warbird _Voyager_, sir."

Leyton's glass of whiskey shattered on the floor. "_Voyager_? They _went back in time_?"

"No," Dulmur said, "the wormhole went _forward_. They're in the Delta Quadrant, Admiral. So is the _Vetar_. Or they were, two months ago our time."

"_Riov_ R'Mor died in a skirmish on the Klingon border four years ago, but he left that card with the Administratum as a time capsule, to be delivered to Starfleet Command on Federation stardate 48320."

"But that was—"

"Usual bureaucratic cock-up, sir," the Romulan explained with a diplomatically suitable degree of embarrassment on his face.

"Ah."

"All the details, along with letters and logs from the two crews, are on that card, but I can give you an overview. They were kidnapped by an entity living in the outer rim of the quadrant. Captain Janeway and most of her senior staff are dead; the former conn officer Veronica Stadi is in command. She's inducted the Maquis crew they were hunting to help fill vacancies. The _Vetar_ has done the same with one of our officers, _Arrain_ Alina t'Aimne of Warbird _Vermithrax_, which went missing… Well, that's classified, but…" He trailed off and gave Leyton an apologetic look.

"My God. No wonder Sisko couldn't find them—they weren't there. Thank you for this, Ambassador."

Tr'Ethian smiled. "Our peoples may be traditional opponents, sir, but here there is little purpose in denying closure to loved ones. My own daughters, all five of them, guard the Klingon border. If something happened to them, I would want to know about it."

"Ensign?" said Admiral James Leyton into his desktop communicator. "Clear my schedule and get me on FNN in three hours. And get Picard and his engineering staff down here in ten minutes." He closed the comm and stood. "Thank you again, Ambassador. And rest assured that the United Federation of Planets will do whatever we can to get our people home safely."

"Of course," said tr'Ethian, rising and shaking Leyton's proffered hand. "_Bedah_, _Enriov_."

* * *

><p>"You're saying that <em>Voyager<em> is half a galaxy away?" asked Captain Jean-Luc Picard in wonder.

"Yes," Leyton confirmed. "From the coordinates in the recording, they're deep in the Delta Quadrant, over seventy thousand light-years from Earth."

"So it wasn't the Dominion after all," Lieutenant Commander Worf remarked.

"Wow," Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge mused with a whistle. "And that was a space creature that pulled them that far?"

"A member of an advanced alien race, using some sort of tetyron-powered array, from what they said."

"Whew. That's some tech I'd like to see."

"Perhaps to examine," said Picard. "I gather that the experience was… less than pleasant?"

"They lost a third of the crew, including the captain, XO, and CMO," Leyton replied. "The ranking officer was the helmsman, Veronica Stadi. Betazoid, upper third of her class at the Academy, but was penalized for not taking a science minor."

Picard resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Starfleet is an exploratory organization, but that takes things a little far, sir."

"Pre-Wolf 359," Leyton explained with a shrug. La Forge grunted noncommittally, but Picard's expression darkened slightly.

"What about the Cardassians?"

"An old… well, _acquaintance_ of yours. Gul Aman Evek of the Fourth Order, former head of the DMZ."

"I remember him," nodded Picard. "A fine man. He was at Dorvan V, commanding the CDS _Vetar_."

"Yes. He and his ship were transported to the Delta Quadrant a week before _Voyager_; we actually scrambled the latter to find out what happened. SI had an operative on a Maquis ship that Evek was after. They vanished without a trace; we sent _Voyager_ to investigate and they got taken, too."

"_Merde_. Well, my schedule is open, although I have been advising Commander Riker in his defense—that court of inquiry, Admiral, for the loss of the _Enterprise_. But if there is any way that I can help—"

"There is. Your engineering and science people have a reputation for being mavericks. I want them, Lieutenant Barclay in particular, to get over to Starfleet Science and start working on figuring out a way to make contact with our castaways."

"Sir," Worf spoke up, "are we sure this is not a trick?" Picard looked over at his security chief. "Respectfully sir, this information _does_ come from the Romulans."

"What reason would they have to lie, Mr. Worf?"

"They are Romulans."

"Mr. Worf—"

"Captain Picard," Leyton interrupted, "I'm going to have agree with the commander here." Worf's head swiveled to the admiral in visible surprise. "Worf is correct to be concerned about the provenance of this information, but I'm well ahead of him. I sent the data card to SI for authentication before you got here."

Picard frowned. "You didn't believe the ambassador, sir?"

"I believe that _he_ believed what he was saying, but the Romulans have hidden things from their diplomats before. Let's not mince words here—subterfuge is the Star Empire's preferred M.O. But, I do have trouble seeing what they could gain by faking this. In any case, your crew is basically at loose ends until Riker's court-martial concludes. No harm in having them bounce a few ideas around."

"I'll get with Data and we'll get right on it," La Forge agreed.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes, by worffan101 &amp; StarSword-C:<strong>

**Worffan says: **"State of Flux" is a pet peeve for both of us. Here's the supposed villain, saying things that make perfect sense to justify an astoundingly idiotic evil plan. Until we get to the part where she chooses the Kazon as allies, Seska's looking like the smartest person on the ship. She's absolutely right that _Voyager _needs allies, that it's in a shitty situation in a dangerous area, and that prissy Starfleet principles are going to get them killed (plot armor notwithstanding).

The problem is that (a) she chooses to ally with a species that make the Three Stooges look like Stephen Hawking, and (b) she tries to get allies by trading away the very technological advantages that make _Voyager_ an attractive ally in the first place!

Also, she's a woman and she's seen how misogynistic the Kazon are. She knows that people can track computers in Starfleet (even though the _Voyager_'s canon command crew are frankly a bit dim). Her plan, in hindsight, is _lunacy_. In this "darker, better-thought-out" universe we're writing, it's outright implausible. So in this episode, while she remains a person of dubious moral character, she's smart enough not to give good information to the Kazon, and hopefully becomes less of an outright villain and more of a distasteful ally, rather like Elim Garak over in _Deep Space Nine_.

On the Kazon and their backers: The idea that the Kazon, a species so stupid that they fight wars over one of the most common substances in the universe and killed themselves accidentally with a device that most of the Federation considers essential to spacefaring life, are a major power even in the relatively low-tech Ocampan side of the Nekrit Expanse, is patently ludicrous. Also, how the heck did the Trabe, who presumably had a fairly solid, relatively powerful society before the Kazon revolted against them, _lose_ to these utter imbeciles? Here, we take some inspiration from a bit of lore in a D&D campaign setting that stuck in my head, and make a hopefully more believable situation, wherein the Kazon serve as a buffer between a race of self-assured elitist bigots and a universe that is not conducive to such bigotry.

On the Trabe: This is a species that's smarter than the Kazon (i.e. smart enough to build a device properly, unlike the canon Kazon, who can't even install a fully-constructed replicator without killing themselves), but, due to said self-assured elitist bigotry and isolationism, is profoundly arrogant. They're used to being relatively big shots in this area, but they're backwards and bigoted enough to still be a relatively small threat. The main advantage that the Trabe have over the Kazon, besides the fact that the Kazon really are as dumb as the Trabe think they are, is that the Trabe are capable of basic military tactics.

**StarSword-C says:** I wrote most of the closing scene as part of our continuing "homefront" subplot while we were working on "Eye of the Needle". While the Romulans run primarily on realpolitik in TNG and aren't strictly speaking friendly with the Federation, they had to have maintained decent diplomatic ties with them for Sisko to get that cloaking device for the _Defiant_, among other things. And it bugged me that there was no apparent payoff from giving R'Mor the time capsule.

I also wanted to poke fun at _Generations_ and answer in-universe why Riker's career basically stagnated until _Nemesis_, when he was getting offered commands of his own throughout TNG. Now, it's standard policy to court-martial the captain if he survives the loss of his ship, but Riker in particular did two or three rather dumb things in the fight with Lursa and B'Etor's bird-of-prey. Picard and B'Etor _both_ said the BoP was no match for the _Enterprise_, so _logically_ they should've been able to wipe it out of the sky with a full volley. Instead they fire one phaser and then slowly run away until Data technobabbles its shields down. Also, since the single most common way of punching through shields like they aren't there is by matching frequencies, Worf _should_ have treated it like they were fighting the Borg and set the shields into random remodulation. And then Riker randomly orders Deanna to take the helm, which makes no sense whatsoever—_he's_ the one who can fly the _Enterprise_ on manual.

So, as acting captain at the time of the incident, Riker gets court-martialed. Per canon he's not going to have been seriously penalized at the end of this (there's no reason for us to show the scene, so we won't), but he's not getting any more command offers for the next eight years.

Changing the subject, I want to send a shout-out to Protogoth from the _Star Trek Online_ forums, the leader of the Tal'Diann, a Romulan Republic RP fleet, for helping me fix my Rihan grammar where t'Aimne yells at the Kazon. I was going for "Burn in Hell, Kazon filth!" but what I originally typed was closer to "Become fire". Protogoth found me the right verb, so thanks.


	7. Setting the Curve

**The Mysterious Case of Neelix's Lungs**

**Episode 1x7: "Setting the Curve" by starswordc and worffan101**

**Rewrite of "Learning Curve" (VOY 1x16)**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Main and recurring cast:<strong>

Gul Aman Evek, CO, CDS _Vetar_: Richard Poe.  
>Acting Dalin Hogue Marritza, tactical officer, CDS <em>Vetar<em>: Eric Etebari  
>Gil Kalar, operations officer, CDS <em>Vetar<em>: Sean Maher  
>Glinn Nirymer, CMO and chief therapist, CDS <em>Vetar<em>: Murphy Guyer  
>Gil Daran Taril, helmsman, CDS <em>Vetar<em>: Alan Tudyk  
>Glinn Alina i'Kevratas t'Aimne, sensor officer, CDS <em>Vetar<em>: Morena Baccarin  
>Glinn Emil Tarak, security chief CDS <em>Vetar<em>: Nathan Fillion  
>Gil Kerani Ocett: Gina Torres.<p>

Captain Veronica Stadi, CO USS _Voyager_: Alicia Coppola  
>Commander Tuvok, XO USS <em>Voyager<em>: Tim Russ  
>Lieutenant Harry Kim, operations officer, USS <em>Voyager<em>: Garrett Wang  
>Lieutenant Commander T'Pai, CMO USS <em>Voyager<em>: Aly Michalka  
>Lieutenant Lindsay Ballard, ChENG USS <em>Voyager<em>: Kim Rhodes  
>Lieutenant Kepa Ayala, security chief, USS <em>Voyager<em>: Tarik Ergin  
>Lieutenant Emergency Medical Hologram, deputy CMO USS <em>Voyager<em>: Robert Picardo  
>Lieutenant JG B'Elanna Torres, deputy ChENG USS <em>Voyager<em>: Roxanne Dawson  
>Chief Warp Core Engineer Jiana Seska, reactor chief, USS <em>Voyager<em>: Martha Hackett  
>Ensign Tom Paris, helmsmantactical officer, USS _Voyager_: Robert Duncan McNeill  
>Crewman Apprentice Celes Tal, sensor chief, USS <em>Voyager<em>: Zoe McLellan  
>Security Officer, Second Class Ivrahanla "Hanla" sh'Phohlhi, noncom, USS <em>Voyager<em>: Vanessa Angel  
>Neelix: Ethan Phillips<p>

Crewman Tahel Mizrahi, USS _Voyager_ security: Sarai Givaty  
>Crewman Mariah Henley, USS <em>Voyager<em> gunnery: Catherine MacNeal  
>Crewman Recruit Gerron Enek, USS <em>Voyager<em> astrometrics: Kenny Morrison  
>Crewman Obrin Chell, USS <em>Voyager<em> systems maintenance: Derek McGrath  
>Crewman Kenneth Dalby, USS <em>Voyager<em> engineering: Armand Schultz  
>Lieutenant Joseph Carey, USS <em>Voyager<em> engineering: Josh Clark

**Guest-starring:**

Vice Admiral James Leyton, Chief of Starfleet Operations: Robert Foxworth  
>Bill "Voice in the Wilderness" Hannity, lead anchor, <em>Voice and Friends<em>: Stephen Colbert  
>Iko Tamur, newsbabe, <em>Voice and Friends<em>: Jessica Williams

* * *

><p><em>FNN Broadcasting Studio, Lagos, North African Alliance (founding member, United Earth)<br>__Federation Stardate 48739.6 (3 August 2371 Earth Standard)_

"And now we have a very special guest," said Bill "Voice in the Wilderness" Hannity, with a certain degree of ill humor that his normal talk show was being co-opted by Starfleet Command. A pundit popular with certain segments of FNN's viewership, he was a slightly portly man of mixed Moroccan, Tibetan, and Welsh descent, with crowd-pleasingly boyish good looks and a nose that had been broken a number of times in another life as an Olympic boxer and never healed right. "Please welcome Vice Admiral James Leyton, Chief of Starfleet Operations."

"Thank you, Bill," said the admiral, who looked considerably more cheerful than he had at his last news interview, if somewhat jet-lagged from the nine-hour time difference between Lagos and San Francisco. "I've got some spectacular news today, for the Federation and the Cardassian Union both. Many people are probably familiar with the well-publicized and highly unusual disappearance of the USS _Voyager_ over a month ago. For those who do not know the details, _Voyager_ vanished without a trace in the Badlands while assisting in recovery operations for a Cardassian vessel that also vanished mysteriously in the same area."

"What's the good news, then, Admiral? Last I heard, _Voyager_ was presumed lost with all hands."

Leyton smiled. "Earlier today, I received a visit from Teleb tr'Ethian, the ambassador for the Romulan Star Empire, and a special agent from the Department of Temporal Investigations. Twenty years ago, a Romulan scout ship made contact with two vessels from twenty years in its future. These vessels were in the Delta Quadrant, roughly seventy thousand light years from here, and sent this data chip through the wormhole as a time capsule. Starfleet Intelligence and Experimental Engineering have checked it out, and it's real."

"So what's the significance of this chip?" asked Hannity, just a little snidely.

"It contains messages, logs, letters, and first contact reports from the officers and crew of the USS _Voyager_ and CDS _Vetar_. Commanding officers Veronica Stadi and Aman Evek, respectively. They were trapped in the Delta Quadrant by an advanced alien, but survived and are on their way home. They're alive, Bill."

Hannity was actually stunned into silence. Leyton continued.

"There were many casualties, especially during the actual abduction. Captain Janeway, the former CO of the _Voyager_, was killed in the transit, as was her first officer, the chief engineer, the chief medical officer… most of the command staff, in fact. Stadi, the helmswoman, was the ranking officer. She formed an alliance with Gul Evek, a high-ranking officer in the Cardassian Fourth Order, and assimilated the survivors of a Maquis vessel that was snatched along with Evek's ship into her crew in order to fill vacancies. They seem to be making excellent progress; they fell afoul of the local warlords, a violent species called the Kazon, but fortunately the average tech level on the far end of the galaxy seems to be a bit behind ours. There were heavy casualties during the initial transit, but as of the last contact there have been no additional deaths."

Hannity found his voice at last. "My god… this is…"

"Unprecedented," sad Leyton with a smile.

"Seventy thousand light-years… that's a couple of hundred years at warp 5, isn't it?" asked Iko Tamur, one of the "Friends" in _Voice and Friends_. Almost young enough to be his daughter, she was a pretty southern-hemisphere Bajoran who hated Cardassians intensely. Hannity's boss had insisted on bringing her on for ratings, and the pundit had been forced to admit that she had worked.

"Yes," Leyton confirmed. "_Voyager_ could normally make a warp 6 cruising speed, but they have reportedly found some advanced technology that they were able to adapt to support the warp cores; both ships should make it home in around fifty years at current maximum speeds, assuming a straight path to Sol at maximum warp. Given that they will need to stick to lower cruising velocities, around warp 7 according to the data in the chip, and that the Delta Quadrant likely has a similar proportion of unusual spatial phenomena to the Alpha Quadrant, we're realistically looking at more like two hundred years unless they find some way to shorten the journey."

"Wait—they're bringing the spoonhead filth back? Why not just kill them and call it good?"

"Uh, I'll just interject here," said Hannity hurriedly, and damn but he hated seeing that woman upstage him in xenophobia. He'd have to spend the entire next episode calling the Romulans cowards, and that always made him antsy. "You have the chip here, Admiral; can we see a clip or something from it?"

"Of course," said Leyton magnanimously. He pulled a tabletop holoprojector out of one of his pockets and plugged the chip into it.

"I'll play the first officer's clip first, it's quite heart-warming."

A hologram of a dark-skinned Vulcan bloomed and solidified. Leyton pressed the play button, and it began to talk.

"_My beloved T'Pel. _

"_It would be illogical of me to not admit that I miss you. While barring illness or unusual accident we should both be alive by the time _Voyager _returns to the Alpha Quadrant, I do not wish to be separated from you for longer than is absolutely necessary. Therefore, I have decided to compose this message so that you may receive reassurance that I am indeed alive if we discover some method of sending rapid communications home. _

"_I am alive and physically intact. I have assumed the role of first officer on the _Voyager_, under Captain Veronica Stadi, formerly assigned to conn. She is a promising young officer. We are joined in our journey by Gul Aman Evek, an officer of the Cardassian Fourth Order. He appears to be an ethical man, and has proven himself to be an effective commanding officer. _

"_We have made First Contact with five species so far; the Ocampa, a species whose biology has doomed them to imminent extinction, the Kazon, a profoundly unintelligent race of nomadic tribes, the Ha'ni, a reptilian species from a parallel timeline, the Talaxians, represented by a trader named Neelix who has joined us for the journey as a guide, and the Vidiians, a species afflicted by a virulent plague for centuries. Our diplomatic negotiations have been effective with all but the Kazon, who appear to be universally violent and aggressive as well as misogynistic and highly illogical in their conduct and technological level. I am overall satisfied with our progress._

"_Please inform our son that I will not be disappointed if he does not perform adequately at archery. If he continues to be concerned with his physical education, please inform him that I myself have never been able to master the lirpa. _

"_I hope that your conference was adequately productive. The Council's plan for the Bajoran colony worlds is illogical and risky; you are correct in stating that additional medical supplies are a necessity for colonization in such unstable times. I recommend connecting with Beverly Crusher, on the _Enterprise_, and Adavithra zh'Planahath of the _Shanghai_. Deep Space 9's Doctor Bashir may also be a useful contact considering proximity. Together, you may be able to sway the Council's decision on Starfleet Medical policy. _

"_I remain forever yours. _

"_Tuvok." _

Leyton pressed another button, and the hologram dissolved.

"Nothing classified there, so I thought that it would be good to play. We've already sent a messenger to the Cardassian Union with the messages for their families, and we're going to publicize them once we've met with the Union and parceled out sensitive information just in case."

"And when will this be?" asked Hannity, knowing damn well that this broadcast was on every newsfeed from Earth to Qo'noS right now. If he played this right, they might even give him his own channel…

"We've already set a meeting through our embassy on Cardassia Prime. We have a few more letters that we're certain contain nothing of importance to us or to the Cardassians, so we'll release those over the next week and however long it takes to iron something quick out with the Union, so we can estimate between two and three weeks for the full release, due to security concerns."

"You mentioned Romulan involvement; can we be sure that this information is genuine?"

"Yes. First of all, there really is no realistic reason for the Star Empire to lie to us on this matter: one of their people is out there as well, and they want her back as much as we want ours. More to the point, as I mentioned earlier I had the chip passed through the usual channels as a basic security precaution. Among other things the datacard is a model that wasn't in use twenty years ago, but the materials have degraded in exactly the way you'd expect after twenty years in storage."

Hannity was silent for a moment, visibly trying to absorb this, and Leyton hid a smile at his discomfiture. The Romulans being completely honest, that was new. Finally, he asked, "Do you know who survived?"

"Yes. We have up-to-date crew manifests of both ships; do you mind if I give the names of the dead first?"

"By all means," said Hannity, deciding that ratings weren't worth being a complete and utter asshole. "Hey, George, kill everything but Camera One, give us a bit of respect."

"Thank you," said Admiral Leyton. He cleared his throat. "Those confirmed dead in transit are as follows: Captain Kathryn Janeway, commanding officer, USS _Voyager_. Commander Aaron Cavit, first officer, USS _Voyager_. Dal Kran Tanar, executive officer, CDS _Vetar_…"

* * *

><p><em>Deep Space, Delta Quadrant<br>__Federation Stardate 48743.9 (5 August 2371 Earth Standard)  
><em>_Cardassian Unified Date 4701.10.1/16_

"We call it _sienov nnea omienai_, the 'honor blade'," Alina t'Aimne explained to Kerani Ocett as the latter hefted the sheathed sword in _Vetar_'s gym.

"It's a beautiful weapon," the Cardassian said, drawing the sword partway from the dull gray polymer scabbard. The blade was a meter long, gently curved from hilt to tip, with a sturdy left-handed basket hilt and a fuller running along the middle third of the blade.

"On my homeworld the _sienov_ is an heirloom in noble families. It takes several different forms but this one's based on _Sienov s'Hfihar s'Aimne_."

"Where'd you find the replicator pattern?" Emil Tarak wondered.

"It's amazing the kinds of things Stadi has in her library," the Romulan answered, taking the sword back from Ocett. "Apparently there was this Starfleet officer named Terise Haleakala-LoBrutto who lived as a Rihanha for several decades and wrote several books about it. She had high-res holoimages of several families' swords, including my family's. Though I flipped the hilt because I'm left-handed."

"You looked like you knew how to handle yourself," Hogue Marritza said. "Though it's pretty long—I'd think a knife or a pistol would be more practical in shipboard combat."

"They teach classical swordplay at Fleet Academy mostly to build aggression. You're not actually _expected_ to kill with the sword in the field but there's this old Rihan saying: '_Aihnir ih'sanhaein khhya emael; rhadai ih'sanhaein khhya dvaer.'_ Loose translation, 'There are no dangerous weapons, only dangerous people.' Anyway it's not really about practicality, _rekkhai_. I'm just trying to maintain some connection to home for my sanity's sake."

"I can understand that."

"Agreed," Tarak said with a nod. "I've got a holocap of my sister and her family. Reminds me of why I fight, you know?"

"It's my aunt for me," Ocett added. "She's a gul in the Twelfth Order. She was the one who inspired me to join the Guard. We were always pretty close; she can't have kids, so she practically doted on me, in her own way."

"Her own way?" asked Marritza.

"Lots of _chakar daran_ training and sharpshooting," Ocett replied with a nostalgic smile. "It's really paid off, I think she'd be proud of me."

"I have to go," Tarak said, checking his chronometer. "Training session I've got to run with Ayala."

"Good luck, sir," Ocett replied.

* * *

><p>"Morning, Kalar."<p>

"Morning, Ballard," the _Vetar_'s ops chief replied over the coms link, munching on a stalk of some vegetable that Neelix had suggested. It wasn't half bad. "Caretaker core still going strong?"

"Yeah. Yours?"

"All systems green," Kalar said, swivelling back and forth in his chair. Shift change was about fifteen minutes of boredom, especially given the crew shortage that left him alone on the Bridge for up to half an hour at a time on some days. "I've been chatting with Torres and Paris, we're considering making a more combat-capable shuttlecraft, something that's got weapons, armor, and a decent cargo capacity."

"Yeah, I'll see what materials we can spare...I finished outfitting two of our current shuttles with the tetryon weaponry we salvaged from the array, and I've got a plan for using the rest of the materials we salvaged to put some extra armor on the shuttles."

"We cycled the materials we salvaged from those Kazon wrecks through a replicator. The gul thinks that we can use it for reinforcement next time we stop for a resupply."

"Good plan."

"I thought so. Hey, I was thinking, we've been really serious about this whole trip so far, right?"

"Yeah. Your point?"

"Organized holodeck activities and entertainment and such. Have one or two every five days or so, stagger 'em through the shifts. Mental health, sort of thing."

"I can see Captain Stadi getting behind that."

"I figured as much. The gul seemed open when I flew it by him earlier."

Daran Taril walked onto the bridge and sat at t'Aimne's usual seat. Kalar saluted with a smile, but the Trill just muttered angrily and sat.

"Gimme a minute here," Kalar said on the com.

"Sure," said Ballard. Kalar muted the com and walked over.

"Hey, Taril, what's the matter? You look like somebody just stepped on your fighting voles."

"You are a senior officer?"

Kalar was momentarily thrown by that.

"Uh, yeah, I'm ops chief. It's me, Taril. Gil Kalar?"

"Excellent," said Taril, and Kalar realized that something was very wrong moments before everything went black.

* * *

><p>"Keep those hands up, Human!"<p>

Harry Kim saw Emil Tarak's fist heading for his face just in time, blocking it as he leaned back reflexively.

"Good! Those reflexes are getting better. Not too high!"

Tarak kicked for Harry's groin, but the human lieutenant jerked sideways, taking a bruising hit to his upper arm as the Cardassian countered.

About a dozen men and women were sparring in the gym as part of Ayala's "Introductory Hand-to-Hand Combat" course. Or, as the Astrometrics crew liked to call it, Punch Time.

Tarak was a tough instructor, but Harry was glad for that. He wouldn't improve without a good challenge, and at the very least it was good that the ex-Maquis Ayala was willing to let the Cardassian officer help him. And besides, it was better than fighting t'Aimne, who tended to forget that other people weren't as strong as Romulans and who still had lingering psychological issues despite the telepathic therapy she'd received.

Tarak's fist plowed into Harry's side, nixing that train of thought. Harry wheezed and collapsed.

"Dead," said Tarak, grasping Harry's head gently but meaningfully. "Still, better that time. You'd certainly be able to take out a Kazon."

"Sir, I think that there are things growing on the undersides of trees that are better than the Kazon."

"Point, that," noted Tarak with a sigh, offering Harry a hand up. "So maybe a dozen Kazon?"

"Hopefully," said Harry with a chuckle.

Tarak punched for his head. Fortunately, Harry was used to the Cardassian's dirty fighting by this point, and ducked backwards, tripping as he did so. He landed hard, hard enough to bruise his shoulder and make him yell in pain, but his left boot connected with something solid.

Tarak made a little squealing noise and toppled.

"Whoah!" shouted Ayala, jogging over. "What the hell happened here? Lieutenant?"

"Accident… sir…" Harry wheezed, getting his breath back. "Glinn, are… you OK?"

"Owowowowowowow…" was all that Tarak managed.

"Sickbay?" Harry asked, and damn but his shoulder hurt.

"Sickbay," sighed Ayala. "_Madre de Dios_, I'm gonna catch some heat for this, aren't I…"

* * *

><p>"Damnation," chuckled Gul Evek as he scrolled through the discipline list.<p>

"Two fights, one fraternization on duty, and one case of reprogramming the replicators to dispense real alcohol. And that's not including Paris being a moron and Marritza thinking with his dick."

"Hemipenes," Evek corrected mildly.

"Sorry," said Stadi. "Anyway, this can't continue."

"Agreed," Tuvok concurred. "Gul Evek, would you agree that some form of professional training program is necessary?"

"For the Maquis at a minimum," Evek said. "I'll probably have Ocett and Tarak deal with my problems. And of course Dalin Marritza has served as a very public example of my unwillingness to tolerate unprofessional behavior."

"Did you really ban him from even replicating condiments?"

"It was very effective," said Evek with a shrug. "I don't have the time or the energy to deal with officers behaving like hormonal teenagers, especially not officers his age. Oh, and Stadi—we need to talk to Kes. Glinn Nirymer has informed me that her eidetic memory is causing problems with therapy."

Stadi winced visibly. "Ugh. That can't be good."

"Apparently she is making steady progress," said Evek, paging through his PADD again. "Anyway… Tuvok, would you be willing to set up a program of some sort to help assimilate and train the Maquis while Stadi and I deal with Ms. Kes?"

"I believe that I will be able to produce several viable options," said Tuvok.

"Excellent. Oh, good news—Neelix thinks that he's developed a good substitute for deka tea. I'll have to stop by the mess hall on our way to Hydroponics."

* * *

><p>"Bruised bladder," said Doctor T'Pai, Tarak sitting up in bed but still a little ashen. Harry had gotten a hypo to the shoulder and an ice pack. "Light duty only for a week."<p>

"Yes, Ma'am," the Cardassian replied. "Nice kick there, Kim."

"Accident, sir."

"Keep making accidents like that and you'll be a master of _chakar daran_ in a week." They both laughed at that.

"More seriously, though," said Harry, "It looks like a bit of a bug with the holodecks—the fake wood floors of the gym program are too slippery. Tom's going to patch it in a couple of days."

"You ask him out yet? And Cardassia, that man's talented."

"He isn't into men, unfortunately," said Harry with a rueful grimace. Tarak grunted understandingly. "But yeah, his father's an admiral, and… well, I'm no rumor-monger, but it's not exactly a secret that they had a rough relationship."

"Oh, one of _those_ types." Tarak nodded sagely. "There was a jagul like that who I served under once. Cardassia, but he was _obsessed_ with his son knowing absolutely everything. Poor boy worked like a demon to impress him, never did. He was a nightmare on the battlefield, though; all that training, all those simulations, he was a killer."

"Makes sense," Harry replied. "Morning, Wildman."

"Morning," said Ensign Wildman. "Doctor T'Pai, I'm here for my follow-up…"

"And that's our cue to leave," said Tarak, hauling himself off of the bed with only a slight wince. "Looks like I'm going over more personnel reports today."

"Want me to help?"

"You read Cardassian?"

"Minored in it at the Academy. I was hoping to get assigned to DS9."

"Oh, yeah, keep forgetting about that bit. Sounds good."

* * *

><p>Evek had to admit, the tea wasn't half bad.<p>

"Well?" asked Neelix.

"Not bad. Could be a little sharper. It's a drinkable substitute, though; what did you use in it?"

"Some herbs from the last planet we resupplied on. Kes is trying to grow some more in the hydroponics bay. Oh, and don't worry, sir, I checked for safety with Stadi's biochem people before I put it on the menu."

"Good man," Evek replied. "Do you have time to assist us in a delicate matter?"

"I think so… Ora has a handle on the paella—last of the frozen fish from Sikaris—so lunch at least should be fine without me. Just give me five minutes, sir, and I'll meet you wherever you need me."

"Excellent. Captain Stadi and I will be outside Hydroponics. We're going to need your help in talking to Kes about her eidetic memory."

"Oh," said Neelix, his normally-cheerful face falling. "Sir… be gentle, please?"

"Of course. Five minutes, then. We will be waiting."

"You know," Stadi remarked as they walked towards _Vetar_'s hydroponics bay, "I don't like some of the implications of what we know of Ocampa biology."

"What do you mean?"

"Nine-year lifespan, reproduce once in that time in a way that is highly likely to cause infant death in birth, only one offspring per female at best… and they all looked very similar, if you recall, similar skin tones and eye colors, even general facial features."

"You think that genetic engineering was involved?"

"Let's just say that they were royally screwed long before the Caretaker showed up, and that I wouldn't be surprised if they were created as sex slaves. Wildman said that a biology like that is practically engineered to require clones or something regularly added to the population; otherwise they'd all go extinct."

"True," nodded Evek. "I've never taken xenobiology in my life and even I know that that isn't a good evolutionary strategy."

"You know, the more I think about this quadrant, the more I hate it," Stadi grumbled as they entered a turbolift.

"Deck Seven. There are many things to dislike here. The Kazon, for one." Stadi grunted in agreement.

* * *

><p>"Damn," muttered Ensign Paris, fiddling with the holodeck's command console.<p>

"What's wrong?" asked Ayala, looking over Tom's shoulder as Tuvok walked between the sparring pairs, quietly pulling a few aside and talking with them for a few moments each.

"Somebody fucked with the root menu by accident while trying to custom-program _Women Warriors on the River of Blood_. And someone else accidentally reverted a patch meant to cover for a bug in the floor slickness while doing a _Call of Duty_ program—hey, who was shooting fake Cardassians and Klingons in their spare time, day before yesterday at 1600 hours?"

"That was me," Crewman Chell called back, moments before being floored by Torres.

"Which _Call of Duty_?" Ayala asked interestedly.

"Number 104, I think."

Paris groaned. "Well, buddy, you screwed up the holodecks something awful… and B'Elanna, seriously, trying to add a custom character in _Women Warriors_? This version's almost ten years old, one of the first interactives; it doesn't have the capacity for custom characters!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know that, Starfleet?" the ex-Maquis grumbled back.

Paris opened and closed his mouth like a fish, then slammed the heel of his hand into his forehead.

"Really? Really? Oh, ye gods, my dad would be having a fit if I said that…"

"Quit it, you two," Ayala ordered. "Chell, while I appreciate your initiative, I think that shooting holographic Cardassians while we are allied with a Cardassian vessel is… frankly, dumb. Tuvok here might call it 'insensitive'.

It was at that point that something exploded two decks above, and _Voyager_ dropped out of warp.

* * *

><p>"<em>What the hell just happened<em>?" screamed Lieutenant Ballard, frantically grabbing a fire extinguisher and hosing an EPS conduit that had caught fire.

"Torres to Engineering!" the deputy CHENG sent through the intercom. "We've lost NavCom! Something caused a short-circuit, blew out the nav computer and part of the EPS grid!"

"I'm trying to reroute it through the backup systems!" Seska shouted over the screams of one of the maintenance technicians, who had been hit by an electrical shock and was clutching his burned arm. "They should have taken over automatically; I don't know why—"

"Looks like the short fried the auto-reroute!" Ballard overheard Torres swearing in what sounded like _tlhIngan Hol_, just outside the intercom's ability to clearly pick it up. "How the hell did that overload the capacitors? Those are Starfleet standard, they should be able to resist a power surge!"

"I don't know," Ballard replied angrily, tearing off a wall panel and leaning backwards as smoke billowed out. "At least the safety interlocks worked and we're out of warp."

"Stadi to Ballard! What in the name of the First Deity just happened to my ship?"

"I don't know! Something fried primary NavCom and blew out part of the EPS grid!"

"Damn it. Is it fixable?"

"I'll get back to you on that, sir! Medical to Main Engineering! Torres, take a work crew up to NavCom, find out what the hell happened!"

* * *

><p>B'Elanna Torres swore as she forced open the door to the navigational control room, two crewmen and a lieutenant behind her. "Carey, with me, we'll see what the fuck happened. You two, put out the damn fire."<p>

"Uh…" said a slightly pained voice from underneath one of the control desks, "I think I'm hurt."

Carey facepalmed. Torres shoved an overturned chair out of the way and revealed one of her old crewmates, a barely sixteen-year-old Bajoran named Gerron Enek.

As Sam Baines called for a medevac behind her, Torres asked, "What the hell happened here, Enek?"

"I was just trying to reroute one of the EPS conduits to bypass the capacitor… I figured it might be able to resist cyberattacks better that way…"

"Seriously?" groaned Carey, career Starfleet through and through. "Utopia Planitia worked hard enough to get capacitors, fuses, and resistors installed on our ships—why the hell would you bypass the damn thing?"

The Bolian, Chell, grabbed the fire extinguisher and hosed down the blazing conduit. "Eh, Chell?" Torres said. "You can let go of the button now, it's out."

"Better safe than sorry."

* * *

><p>For a rather small woman Captain Stadi seemed to have swelled a size from sheer fury. Ayala had never imagined that the Betazoid could be so elementally enraged: she looked ready to bite pieces out of the furniture. "Crewman Gerron, what in the name of all Twelve Deities possessed you to make an untested modification to live circuits without staff approval and <em>while the ship was using the subsystem in question<em>?! I'm not even an engineer and I know that's a bad idea!"

"I was trying to help!" T'Pai had dressed the Bajoran's burns but Gerron's uniform still smelled faintly of burnt plastic.

"Well, your 'help'," said with air-quotes, "is going to cost us a day and a half of repair time before we can even go anyplace! We are deep in space, corner of No and Where! This is _not_ the time to be _fucking_ _with the gods-damned navigation systems!_" Gerron looked to be trying to shrink into the floor. "So much for your replicator and holodeck privileges, and you can go join Celes on the custodial crew for the next three months. And if you weren't an E-1 already, you _would_ be!"

"Captain," Ayala broke in, "a word?"

Stadi subsided somewhat and nodded. "Gerron, wait outside for a moment," she said, somewhat hoarsely. She wasn't used to yelling that much. As soon as the Bajoran was out of earshot, she gestured

"Sir, with respect, aren't you being a bit harsh? Gerron's just an overeager kid; he doesn't deserve a full captain's mast."

"Ayala, forget the inconvenience; he could've gotten himself killed! There's a damn good reason you're supposed to go through channels before working on critical systems. Hell, even Neelix knew better than that!"

"Look, dumb idea, granted, but I think you're overreacting—"

"Your input is noted, _Lieutenant_."

Ayala's jaw dropped in disbelief at the younger woman. "So you're pulling rank on me now?"

"Yes, because I've had it up to here with your people causing these kinds of problems!" She started counting off on her fingers. "Torres assaulted a fellow officer, your people went behind my back with the Sikarians—yes, it _was_ your people's idea, even if the Cardassians helped—we've got half a dozen minor maintenance issues thanks to Chell never getting anything finished, Paris caught Henley and Mizrahi making out on duty, and now this!"

Ayala let out a breath through pursed lips. "The proverbial 'last straw', sir?"

"Got it in one. I don't know what I have to do to get through to your people, I just know that we can't keep this up. Get the Maquis in line before I have Gul Evek do it."

* * *

><p>"Hey, has anyone seen Taril?" asked Gil Ocett. "I wanted to talk to him about getting him some real hand-to hand training."<p>

"Haven't seen him all day," Marritza remarked. "Wait-wasn't he on duty?"

"No, think he took a break?"

"I don't know, check the toilets, maybe?"

"Maybe…" said Ocett, but her aunt's training was niggling at the back of her head. "Ocett to Tarak."

"Tarak here, what do you need?"

"Have you seen Gil Taril today?"

"He was on the Bridge last I checked, why?"

"Well, he's not there now…"

"Ah, Cardassia. Tarak to Gul Evek, Gil Taril is missing. Recommend we sweep _Vetar_ on all decks."

* * *

><p>"Ah, damnation," Chell moaned, ripping out an entire rack of bio-neural gel packs. "Three of the damn things fried by a damn short."<p>

"Be glad it wasn't worse," said Torres, who was working with Carey on the nav computer itself. Or more accurately, Carey was swearing as he tried to boot the thing up while Torres tried to repair the output lines, which had been temporarily disconnected.

"How much worse could it be?" asked the Bolian.

"Clearly you weren't on the _Victory of Freedom_. Only three of us got out of THAT mess—me, Tuvok, and Ayala. We signed on with Chakotay's cell a week and a half afterwards, but Tuvok and I were on short shifts for two months from burns."

Carey looked up from his work to whistle at that. "That's a pretty bad short. Let me guess, an _Oberth_-class, retrofitted with stolen Cardassian disruptors and computers?"

"Yeah, why?"

"They teach that at the Academy as an example of what _not_ to do in Engineering. There was a ship during the last Cardassian war, got lost behind enemy lines and scavenged a wrecked _Sartan_-class destroyer to get back. When they hooked the NavCom up to Federation systems, it worked for about eight days, just enough for them to get back into our space. Then the whole thing blew out and fried the entire EPS grid. _Stargazer_ was in the area and got them out, but half the crew was killed."

Torres winced. "Which class do they teach this in?"

"Adaptive Engineering. It's intended for juniors."

"Damn, I missed that one. I dropped out and joined the Maquis two years ago, just as we were forming."

"It's a pretty interesting case. Hazards of jury-rigged tech and all that."

"Yeah. By the way, Starfleet, been meaning to ask—how was that holonovel?"

"It was good. Its personalizable, I could take you through it sometime. It's you as a secret agent, stopping Doctor Deleterious Diabolical and his Demented Demonic Destroy-A-Trons from annihilating a planet of your choice."

"Sounds cheesy."

"No more so than _Women Warriors_, and it's got just as much action with three times the customization options."

"Huh, I'll have to try it sometime. Try it now?"

"Not yet, still not booted… ah, there we go! All right, connect it manually."

"Right. Chell, are those gel packs replaced?"

"Done," said Chell, putting the panel back on over the newly-reinstalled gel packs. "Ready to try it."

Carey nodded and tapped a few keys. The technicians all held their breath.

The computer hummed to life, the rest of the room following shortly.

"YES!" shouted Carey, pumping his fist. Chell and Torres high-fived as the Human whooped happily.

"Torres to Ballard, we have primary NavCom online!"

* * *

><p>"Still no luck on Gil Taril?" asked Gul Evek, walking up briskly with Stadi at his side.<p>

"No, sir," Ocett replied. "We were about to check his quarters, but they're locked from the inside, he's not responding to hails, and we can't locate his transponder."

"Allow me." Evek tapped in a quick code on a console next to the door.

The door chimed and opened. Ocett moved in first, rifle ready.

"Taril? You alright?"

The answer was a muted groan.

"Damn it… where in the State are the lights?"

Stadi found the light switch. Taril's room was mostly clear, except for a couple of overturned chairs. Whatever had happened had been fast and surprising.

The Trill himself was gagged with his shirt, tied around his wrists by his uniform top, and had his pants securing his ankles to the chair that he was rather expertly trapped in. There was a phaser burn on his torso, just above the symbiote pouch.

"Taril! Damn it, what happened?" Ocett tore off the makeshift gag and began on the uniform top as Taril sputtered and swore.

"One of those Feds! Human man, light skin, brown hair, yellow uniform. He shot me with a phaser!"

"_What_?" asked Stadi in disbelief. "By the Second Deity… Stadi to Ayala!"

"Ayala here, sir. What's the matter?"

"One of our crew assaulted Evek's helmsman and tied him up in his quarters. White male, brown hair, gold uniform. Put every single human or Betazoid matching that description in the lineup room in Tom Paris' police procedural holoprogram immediately." She let out a frustrated breath, holding her head in her hands. "I am _so_ far beyond tired of this…"

* * *

><p>"Paris, you're diverging from course."<p>

"What?" asked Paris in confusion. "Taril, we're reading green here… NavCom's working."

"I'm reading a five-degree divergence in course, can you just confirm for me?"

"Sure, not that I'm going to find anything. You must've gotten hit harder than—what the hell?"

"Confirmation?"

"Roger that. Damn." He hit his intercom. "Paris to Ballard, we're diverging from course. I'm dropping us out of warp. You _sure_ you got NavCom fixed?"

"Positive. Carey even double-checked Chell's work with the bioneural gel packs before putting everything away. Why?"

"We're drifting off-course. Not by much, but more than the local subspace currents can account for, and _Vetar_ isn't following."

"Mother of _pearl_," she muttered in a frustrated tone. "All right, I'll head forward and check things out again. Maybe one of the engine controllers got cross-wired."

"Paris, I have to head to your holodeck. We'll drop out of warp alongside you."

"Roger that, Taril. See you later."

* * *

><p>"Well, Taril?" Stadi asked. They were standing in a holographic recreation of the New York City Police Department's 12th Precinct, circa 2008. A row of five goldshirts stood behind the two-way mirror, all white male humans with brown hair.<p>

"Second from the right."

Tuvok pressed the speaker button. "Crewman Kenneth Yanakov Dalby, step forward, please." A man Tuvok remembered from the _Val Jean_ obeyed. "Are you certain?"

"Gun in your face focuses your attention. It's him—I remember the oval rank insignia."

"Ayala," Stadi ordered, "take Crewman Dalby to the brig. The rest may return to duty. Computer, arch!"

* * *

><p>Dalby was furious as Hanla and Ayala frog-marched him along <em>Voyager<em>'s corridors. "I'm innocent, I swear on my mother!"

"I clearly remember you telling me you joined the Maquis because you wanted to slaughter Cardassians," Ayala said without looking at him. "Something about a lover who got gang-raped and murdered? Not hard for me to imagine you taking a shot at a target of opportunity."

"Believe me, Kepa—"

"That's 'Lieutenant Ayala' to you, Crewman," the Andorian snarled, jerking Dalby's arm a little harder than necessary.

"Shut it, Stalks! Boss, if I'd done it, I would've told you. Killing spoonheads is something to be _proud_ of!"

"Taril's a Trill, dumbass."

"He wears their uniform!"

"You are not helping your case, Crewman Dalby," Tuvok remarked from behind them. "By your own admission, you had motive."

"But not opportunity—I was in my quarters! Check the door logs!"

"We will," Tuvok agreed. "But you will be confined to the brig while the check is underway. And while you sit there with nothing to do, you may consider the proper respect to show superior commissioned and noncommissioned officers. Regardless of your guilt in the matter of assault and battery of an allied officer, I shall recommend to Captain Stadi that your holodeck privileges be suspended for disrespectful conduct towards your superiors." They reached the brig and shoved him into a cell, sliding the door shut. "Crewman Dalby," the Vulcan said through the bars, "I do not care whether you respect _me_, but you _will_ respect my rank. That covers myself and any other superior aboard either _Voyager_ or _Vetar_."

"If I'd wanted ranks I would've enlisted in Starfleet, _sir_."

"Why'd you join the Maquis, then?" Ayala said. "You're a crack shot and you're a good enough programmer you could've been a freelancer but you chose us. Think of it like this, Kenny. When you signed on with Chakotay's crew you agreed to follow his orders. Same thing here; the system's just got more levels."

"Really, Ayala? Thought a Maquis would take my side."

"I was Starfleet first." Dalby stared at him, then his eyes flicked to Tuvok. "No, not like Tuvok. Armory officer on the _Honshu_ during the Cardassian War, got out in '64. Point is, I've been on both sides of this game, and I know _exactly_ how you feel about the Cardies."

* * *

><p>"I dunno, Carey, there's gotta be something wrong with it," Ballard said, leaning back from an access panel wiping a smudge of lithium grease off her face. "Check it at the other end."<p>

"I did, twice. There's nothing wrong with it."

"Over here!" Seska hollered from the console. The Cardassian-turned-Bajoran pointed to a line of code on the screen as Ballard and Carey came over. "It's not the hardware, it's the software. Somebody altered the transmission code for the field controllers, gave the starboard nacelle a power boost of a fraction of a percentage point."

"Sabotage?" Carey asked with what sounded like a mix of disbelief and horror.

"Something like that. I can revert the changes pretty quick… but—"

"But what?"

"With your permission, Lieutenant," Seska said in a cautious tone, one eye on her minder from Security, "I'd like to plant an electronic tripwire in here in case whoever it is tries it again."

"Can we just check the security cameras instead?" Carey asked.

Seska typed out a few commands and flicked a thumb at the wall. "Looks like the only camera was mysteriously offline from about 0800 to 0815. _Ye'phekk maktal kosst amojan_ forgot to alter the metadata."

Ballard gave her a funny look. "'_Ye'phekk maktal kosst amojan_'?"

"Been undercover as a Bajoran for too long," Seska muttered ruefully.

"Ah. Tripwire's a good idea, but let me clear it with the captain first."

* * *

><p>"It does not add up," Tuvok said evenly. "Dalby was correct; the computer logs have confirmed that he was in his quarters at the time of the attack. He is capable with technology, but Lieutenant Ayala has confirmed that he is not capable of hacking our computer systems with that level of proficiency."<p>

"So what in the Second Deity's name took out Taril? And more importantly, why?"

"Shapeshifter?" suggested Ayala.

"Or somebody using a holographic disguise," Ballard proposed. "Anyway, pretend to be the helmsman, get to the bridge during a slow time of day, imitate one of the senior officers, take control of the ship."

"Possible," Stadi nodded. "That would explain the course changes."

"Wait, Taril was on _Vetar_ all day. Nobody's seen him on _Voyager_ in three days, and he was only tied up for about six hours."

"Did anyone see him during that time?"

"I don't know," said Ayala. "I could ask Tarak."

"No need," Ballard said, shaking her head. "Kalar saw him come onto the bridge at around 0800… mother_fucker_!"

"That was after Taril got nabbed," Ayala realized.

"Stadi to Evek! Gil Kalar has been replaced by an unknown infiltrator! Apprehend him safely, we need to question him!"

"I don't think that that will be necessary, Stadi," said Gul Evek over the coms link.

"And why not?"

"Because we just found him unconscious in a munitions locker."

* * *

><p>"Have to hand it to Neelix," Celes said to Crewman Gerron as she ran a diagnostic on one of the sensor arrays, "he does a good pa… paya… p-something; anyway, it had pasta and fish in it. You get any of it?" Gerron said nothing. "Anyway, apparently we're going near his homeworld fairly soon, though that doesn't do me any good." He still ignored her. "Hey, talk to me," she said to the black-haired teen from Hedrikspool Province. "You <em>still<em> mad about the captain chewing your ass?"

"Yeah. Why aren't _you_?"

"You're not the one who punched out an officer."

"A _Cardassian_ officer," Gerron spat.

"Yeah, well, we're all equal before the law or some such."

"You're seriously not angry?"

"I didn't say that! It's just… Oh, never mind." She glanced at the screen on his console. "I thought you were supposed to be helping me with the gravimetric distortion mappers. What's with the chart?"

"Diagnostic's running in the background, I was just looking at our… course… What the _phekk_?"

"What is it?" asked Celes. "You figure something out about the course change from earlier?"

"Yes, I did. You're not going to believe this."

The older Bajoran came over and looked, and her eyes widened in horror. "Prophets. I'm getting the captain and Paris." She hit the intercom key. "Celes to Stadi! Crewman Gerron was working with me on the sensor arrays and just figured something out. Whoever was fiddling with NavCom wanted to go to the Gamma Quadrant!"

* * *

><p>"The most likely infiltrator is a Founder," Tuvok explained to Evek, Stadi, and Ayala, all of whom he had insisted on getting blood from to verify their DNA. "What little information that Starfleet Command has is classified, but in my opinion you all have the necessary need-to-know. They are extremely skilled at mimicry, place little value on the lives of anything but other changelings, and they are very hard to kill."<p>

"I know of them," said Gul Evek. "Shapeshifters from the Gamma Quadrant, like that man Odo on Terok Nor."

"DS9," Stadi corrected sharply. Evek acquiesced with a polite nod. "Deities. If we're dealing with _that_, we need to hit it hard and fast."

"Notify everyone to be on the look for unusual behavior," said Ayala, bringing up his combadge. "Ayala to all security teams, sweep all decks top-to-bottom, now! Anyone who's acting strangely, bring 'em in and stick 'em behind a forcefield, make sure there are NO openings! We have a shapeshifter on board."

"Tarak, this is Gul Evek. We have an infiltrator on board, likely a shapeshifter. Sweep the ship, look for any man who is acting strangely or refuses to have his blood tested. Do DNA tests on everyone. Any crewman who acts strangely, refuses a test, or has the wrong DNA goes straight to the brig. Seal them off, no openings. I mean it. And I want a full security lockdown: nothing gets on or off."

"Yes, my Gul. Kim! Get me another ice pack and a gun, we're going hunting!"

"How the hell did it get aboard?" Ayala wondered.

"The most logical scenario is that the Founder had infiltrated one of the three crews making up our ranks and was simply brought along when we were kidnapped by the Caretaker. Presumably it wishes to return home and feels that taking control of one of our ships is how it will do that."

"But he'll be stuck out here for—"

"The Founders are believed to be effectively immortal. A fifty-year voyage would be a mere inconvenience."

* * *

><p>Crewman Mizrahi slipped up behind Henley as the other woman worked on one of the consoles in the empty Main Engineering (the rest of the Engineering crew off celebrating getting the NavCom back online, and given the regular slow pace of Gamma Shift on this underpopulated ship it wasn't at all surprising that she was alone) and stuck her hands over Henley's eyes.<p>

"Guess who?"

Henley stiffened, then knocked Mizrahi's hands back over her head. "Leave me alone. I'm busy."

"Sorry, Mariah, no need to snap. Hey, I took a semester of warp theory before I dropped out; maybe I can help."

"I doubt it," said Henley.

"Nah, c'mon, the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can have some time to ourselves." Mizrahi sidled up on Henley's left, prepared to log into the next console, and stopped.

"Wait—why are you putting in an override to the starboard nacelle? That would take us off course!"

"Damn it," hissed Henley. Only she wasn't Henley.

Mizrahi realized this as she leaped backwards instinctively, Henley's arms turning into massive fists of translucent gelatin that struck for Mizrahi's head as the woman rolled away.

"You are immaterial, Solid," hissed the creature wearing Henley's face. "I will return to the Dominion, and nothing will stop me!"

"_Chara_!" hissed Mizrahi as she sprinted for the door, the monster following. "Intruder alert, Main Engineering! Some kind of shapeshi—"

Then the creature grabbed her, two pseudopods hit her in the head, and everything went black.

* * *

><p>"It's in Engineering! All squads, go, go, go!"<p>

Ayala raced for the turbolift, as Stadi ordered the entirety of the Engineering decks sealed off to outwards travel.

"Tarak, get two squads over here as soon as the _Vetar_ is clean. We have cornered the infiltrator."

Stadi grabbed a disruptor as Evek offered it, nodding briskly in thanks.

"This should be a pleasant afternoon," mused Evek as he checked his gun's power cells on the run.

"Let's kick some Founder ass." Stadi replied. Evek smiled in a way that promised death and mayhem.

"Nobody attacks my men and gets away with it, Stadi. Nobody."

* * *

><p>"Clear!" hissed Lieutenant Ayala. "Moving to next intersection. Hartman, keep scanning for anything out of the ordinary. Hanla, keep covering my six."<p>

"On it, boss," the Andorian confirmed quietly.

"Stadi to Ayala, Gil Ocett from _Vetar_ is leading a force to assist you with heavy weapons."

"Tell her thanks and to try not to break anything. Try the aft entry."

"Understood."

Ayala peeked around the next intersection, both ways. Nothing.

"Clear!"

"Main Engineering's next," Hanla reminded him.

"Keep watch on the door. Fan out, men. Sweep the corridors, active sensors and eyeballs. Look up, remember. And remember that this is a shapeshifter: look for patterns that don't fit."

"Ten-four, LT," Hanla replied, waving a squad after her to cover Engineering's doors.

The turbolift _ding_ed behind Ayala, and he spared a glance. Four Cardassians carrying massive assault disruptors walked out, Ocett in the lead. She was humming something that sounded dangerously like "There is no kill like overkill"; Ayala couldn't help but smirk. "Ocett."

"Ayala. We brought assault gear in case it's a heavy."

"Good. Get set up, but quiet."

"Who's in there?"

"Mizrahi and the infiltrator, we think. I sure hope Mizrahi's still alive."

"Stadi to Ayala, we've found Crewman Henley in her quarters. Looks like the Changeling got her, too."

"She awake yet?"

"T'Pai's looking her over now, she took a nasty crack on the head."

"Why isn't it killing?" asked Ocett.

"Probably because bodies are harder to cover up than people on the timescale it needs their identities for," Ayala mused.

Ocett grunted noncommittally in response.

"Hanla here, LT—we've swept the deck, it's clear. "

"You're sure?"

"Yessir, triple-checked every junction."

"Alright then. Ocett, want to do the honors?"

"No access codes."

"Oh, duh. Sorry, my bad. Hartman?"

The burly human Ayala had indicated nodded and moved over to the wall console, punching in a quick access code. The door slid open as Ayala, Ocett, and their men leveled their guns.

Mizrahi was standing by a console, looking up as they entered. Lying unconscious on the floor was… Mizrahi.

_What the fuck?_

"Hands in the air," growled Ocett, her massive disruptor autocannon humming ominously. The standing Mizrahi yelped and jumped back.

"Jesus! Don't do that! It's OK, that's the infiltrator, I took her out and I'm trying to undo whatever she did to the computers."

"Ayala? Do we need to test—"

"No," said Ayala coldly, keeping his phaser rifle trained on the standing Mizrahi. "Tahel's from one of the Orthodox districts in Haifa, born and raised Jewish. She hasn't used the word 'Jesus' in casual conversation as long she's been on my squad, and even some of the aliens will do that depending on how long they've been around humans from Christian backgrounds. Put your hands in the air and keep them there, Changeling."

"Damned Solid," hissed the impostor, flesh going translucent as it moved to attack. "You cannot stop me!"

"Open fire!" Ocett barked.

Approximately twenty disruptor and phaser shots hit the Founder at once. It screamed horribly, distorted into a swirl of golden fluid as Ocett laid into it with her SAW, and finally blew apart and coated half of Main Engineering in goo.

Ocett lowered her weapon slowly. "By Cardassia. Are there more of those things?"

"Not on the ship, thankfully," Ayala replied as Hartman moved to check on the unconscious Mizrahi. "Starfleet found some in the Gamma Quadrant, though, according to Tuvok."

"Damn. I hope the Union doesn't get mixed up with those, that could end really badly." She moved forward towards the motionless brunette on the ground, but then… "_Shtel._ Well, that's the end of that pair of boots."

"Eh, we'll leave it for Celes and Marritza," Seska said, grinning evilly.

"Marritza?" asked Ayala.

"He's been helping Celes with her cleanup work," Ocett replied with a shrug. "I think he's into her, personally."

"Yeah, right," snorted Ayala disbelievingly. "Want to bet on that?"

"Sure. I win, you play _Vetar's Courage_ with me. You win, I play _Mass Effect_ with you."

"You're on."

* * *

><p>"How is she?" Stadi asked. Lieutenant EMH pressed another hypospray to Mizrahi's neck and looked up.<p>

"Concussion, minor fracture to the C3 vertebra, minor internal bleeding consistent with blunt force trauma to the torso. I have healed the fracture and she is sleeping off the concussion. She will be fit for light duty only in a week, three weeks after that for full duty. Unfortunately there's still residual trauma left over from when that Kazon shot her last month; the changeling attack aggravated the old injury."

"And the others?"

"Doctor T'Pai is treating Crewman Henley and the Cardassian casualties; they will most likely be fit for duty in the morning."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. How long have you been running?"

"I have been running almost constantly since I was activated by Doctor T'Pai on stardate 48299.91. Why do you ask, sir?"

"Just wondering. And considering if I should call you something other than Lieutenant, Doctor, or EMH. Alright, I have to go meet with Gul Evek, and T'Pai has a training session with Nirymer, so you're in charge down here."

"Understood, Captain. I am certain that you will be pleased with my performance."

Stadi paused for a moment as she went out the door. That had sounded… odd, somehow. Not in a worrying way, but just...more sapient than a holo-AI usually was, even a good one.

She shook it off. The EMH AI was one of the most airtight AIs ever created, it'd be near-impossible to suborn.

The door hissed shut. Lieutenant EMH's holographic avatar stood there for a while in silence. Then his eyebrows furrowed.

"She was right. What do I call myself, other than rank and designation?" He stood there for a moment, woolgathering, then realized, "Blast, she forgot to turn me off again."

* * *

><p><em>Personal log, Lieutenant Kepa Ayala, security chief, USS <em>Voyager.

_God damn. Shapeshifters, now? I'm really starting to dislike this crazy quadrant. _

_Paris and some of the techs fixed the holodecks, and he said that the _Call of Duty _programs should work right now. I tested it with Ocett. Nice girl, for a Cardassian. We blasted a lot of Reavers with the _Serenity _mod on _CoD 104 _and she had a great time. _

_I'd never encountered the Fourth Order so closely before I got stuck here. They're the Cardie home guard, bound to defend the homeworld and the people of the Union. In the Maquis, they were the ones to fear, not because they were cruel like the Occupation Authority under Dukat and Darhe'el and their ilk, but because they fought off our raiders with brutal determination. _

_I'm beginning to see now that not all Cardassians are like the ones I joined up to fight. Evek's a hard man, but a decent one, and he knows how to keep it light for his crew. Ocett and Tarak are, besides the spoonhead bit, officers that I wouldn't mind serving with long-term if I had the choice. Hell, I might even serve with them voluntarily even with that whole chestnut. _

Madre de Dios. _Even Taril, the Trill, he joined up with them _voluntarily_. There's something there, that I'm just sort of getting but I think some of the others don't. _

_This trip is changing me. And I think… I think I can live with the man that I'm becoming. I'm not sure if it's good, per se. But I think I can live with it. _

_End log. _

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

Note: These notes are longer than usual, and deal with some of the questions raised in reviews.

**Worffan says:** Trying to do several things here. First, Tuvok's treatment of the Maquis in the original story was really kind of a dick move, and not at all in character for an otherwise-competent man. These are freedom fighters; they're used to hard lives, with lots of running around and travelling on foot. They don't need boot camp, they need to learn to trust the Starfleet people.

Second, we are endeavoring to make Neelix less of an outright shithead, a Herculean task if there ever was one. This necessitates stripping out most of his stupid Talaxian maxims, that idiotic jealousy arc (way to be an untrusting, untrustworthy abusive asshat, hedgehog), and in fact pretty much everything the chuckle-heads did with the character. He's also one of the reasons we killed Chakotay; it's easier to fix someone who's a shithead than one who's a walking ethnic stereotype, and frankly Neelix's actor was better, so he deserves the scrappy-heap rescue more. Ergo, no _nearly killing the fucking ship_ with _cheese_.

Also, worffan would like to apologize for the story being late; it was very challenging to make a good story without manufactured drama, and RL (college for me) really bit us in the ass.

Finally, the opening scene is a continuation of our home-front background arc. This will bear fruit soon enough.

**StarSword says:** So apparently Fox News is still a thing in the far future.

The Founder hunt was my idea. We wanted to keep the canon episode's plot of having discipline problems due to the mixed crews, but honestly Tuvok's reaction was all wrong: like Worffan said, the Maquis didn't need to go through boot camp, they needed to gain trust in military procedure. Plus, the wrinkle of the Cardassians. So, we needed to find a replacement way to force all three crews to work together in close proximity despite lack of trust, and not just at a senior staff level, but we also needed to make the plot proceed more logically and preferably without involving cheese. And we were stuck on that problem for roughly two weeks.

Then, for some bizarre reason, after re-watching the SF Debris review of "Learning Curve" I randomly flashed on a _Stargate SG-1_ episode, "Allegiance", where a Goa'uld assassin starts playing on the existing distrust between the SGC, Tok'ra, and Free Jaffa, hoping to drive a wedge between them. But he gets discovered and the plan backfires: they join forces to hunt him down. Well, we don't have Goa'uld assassins with personal invisibility cloaks, but it _is_ 2371, after first contact with the Dominion. I'm not sure which crew was originally infiltrated and it frankly doesn't matter; the point is, the Caretaker accidentally grabbed one of the Founders when he kidnapped our heroes.

In answer to a reader question on why Stadi seems to enjoy space combat "a bit too much for a Betazoid", I would point out that the only major Betazoid characters in the canon are Deanna and Lwaxana Troi, respectively a Starfleet Medical psychologist and a Federation diplomat. The rest of the canonical Betazoid characters are one-off civilians and Lon Suder. In contrast to all the above, Stadi trained as a conn officer, i.e. the person who flies the ship, which is a tactical specialty. So I wouldn't say she enjoys it so much as it's what she's good at. Also, don't forget, she was a _lieutenant_ before all hell broke loose in the Badlands, and now she's been forced to take command of a hundred-some-odd people way before she was actually "ready". She might be overcompensating a little. :P Finally, _because_ she's a Betazoid she was able to see how vile the Kazon really are under the comical exterior in starker detail than anybody in either crew (not including those like Kes and t'Aimne who have first-hand experience). When you hate something that much, you tend to enjoy destroying it.

That, and I've never really liked a straight-played planet of hats. For an example from elsewhere, I reconcile the Ferengi naval vessels of early TNG that could challenge Federation starships with the money-grubbing cowards of DS9 by the simple fact that, by virtue of their location in space (_Star Trek: Star Charts_ puts the Alliance on the UFP's western border between the Tzenkethi Coalition and the Breen, and within striking distance of Cardassia), the Ferengi had to have maintained a well-equipped defense fleet or else somebody would've conquered them by now, much like Starfleet is feared for its prowess despite the Federation's disinterest in conquest. On a more day-to-day note, they'd need to protect their trade lanes from piracy. Quark, Rom, etc. aren't representative of this because they're civilians. (Worffan adds: In defense of Quark, he had some seriously huge balls when he wanted to show them, and he thought that a Klingon woman was a suitable target for his attentions. Even Quark defied the stereotype, even though he played it up. C.F. "The House of Quark", "The Magnificent Ferengi", and every time Quark stared down the shapeshifter who could creatively kill him in an instant.)

To quote Sten in _Dragon Age: Origins_, "People are not simple. They cannot be defined for easy reference in the manner of: 'the elves are a lithe, pointy-eared people who excel at poverty.'"

In general I try to write for _Star Trek_ in a reconstruction style: try to maintain the optimism of TNG but take a more pragmatic, realistic approach to the characters, tech, and setting _a la_ DS9 (with a decent infusion of harder military sci-fi, e.g. _Honor Harrington_, for flavor). After all, we're in a post-Wolf 359 world here and within four years of the most devastating war in Alpha Quadrant history, so the Federation can no longer afford to pretend that the galaxy is their oyster. And I'm only too happy to call them on it when they do things like use the Prime Directive as a fig leaf for moral cowardice (which is where characters like Kanril Eleya and Celes Tal, career Starfleet but still relative outsiders to the Federation establishment, come in handy). But at the same time they're still the Federation, the guys who are supposed to aspire to a higher standard of behavior and try for peaceful resolutions first.

Changing the subject, I based t'Aimne's honor blade partly on the cover art depictions of the Sword of S'task from the _Rihannsu_ novels, but mostly on a reproduction US Army 1860 heavy cavalry saber made by a company called Cold Steel. This is not a purely ceremonial sword but a practical combat weapon, especially with the added power of a Romulan physique: they may not be as strong as Vulcans because Romulus' gravity is lower, but they're still stronger than the average human. (Worffan says: Added to that, we never had confirmation that Vulcans raised off-world had any disadvantage over Vulcan natives, and Rihannsu are, what, a few thousand years removed? Any difference is likely negligible.)

And thanks again to Protogoth for Romulan language help, specifically t'Aimne's maxim.


End file.
